To Hell and Back
by Obsessed Pam
Summary: Following the torture by Ba'al, Colonel Jack O'Neill must traverse the long road back to recovery. It can never be an easy journey.
1. Chapter 1

This story is dedicated to Nell for all her wisdom and skills as a beta specialist and for her tireless enthusiasm which keeps me going.

**To Hell and Back**

Chapter 1

He tried hiding the limp and was successful to a point, but the tremors in his hands were a different matter, and as he hurriedly signed his name in the 'OUT' book, he knew the officer on duty had noticed. Keeping his eyes lowered, he didn't bother nodding as he turned away.

'Just get past the door,' he told himself, his whole attention on escape, all too aware of the questioning eyes on his stiff back and even stiffer leg.

The relief was palpable as he stepped out into the morning light, blinking at the brightness and automatically reaching for the shades in his shirt pocket. For a moment he paused, taking in the greens, reds, and oranges of the trees and the intense blue of the sky. A crisp autumn day, one that in the past would have had him itching to go fishing, but which now left him feeling…nothing.

He frowned, and then turned left to the parking lot.

'Where the hell is my truck?'

He scratched his head doing a full 360 degree turn. It had been a long time since he'd last parked it and his mind struggled to recall that last occasion when the leaves were still growing, so many days, weeks and months ago.

His eyes alighted on the familiar dark green 4x4 and he couldn't help the small sigh of relief even as it irritated the hell out of him to think his anxiety had been raised at the mere thought of not knowing where to look.

Fingering the keys in his trouser pocket, his grey head was lowered as he approached the driver's side, unprepared for the sight of the large man sitting in the driver's seat of his car, smiling at him through the lowered window, yet still appearing smug.

Jack's frown returned.

"Jacob?" His voice was questioning yet lacking the inflection that made people sit up and pay close attention to anything Colonel Jack O'Neill of the U.S.A.F. had to say.

"Jack."

For an unstoppable moment, memories piercingly painful kicked him low in the gut and he had to force himself not to twist away and search for a place to hide.

His mouth tightened and he willed himself to remain still, refused to tremble.

"You're in my truck."

"Glad to see your faculties are still so highly honed." The sarcasm was the light, friendly banter he had been used to, but that was before…. He blinked, his cold eyes hidden behind the dark plastic and made much of checking his watch.

"Look, if this is just a social chat, then--."

"Not social," Jacob interrupted, making no attempt to hide his careful observation of the other man.

The short, dishevelled hair was the same he noted, sprouting up at all angles, defying the skills of the most talented barber to tame it, though there were more silver highlights running through it now. The eyes were obscured, but the human Tok'ra did not miss the change in Jack's voice, the loss of the rich tones. Gone too was the cocky arrogance of a man sure of himself and what he was doing.

"Sam mentioned that she and the rest of the team have been seconded to cover SG-2's work as they've all come down with a form of measles."

Jacob didn't fail to see the sharp reflexive jerk of Jack's shoulders.

"And is there anything else Carter told you that I should know about?" he demanded cuttingly.

A faint curve of the older man's lips showed he had taken no umbrage from Jack's tone as he continued softly, "Your games are wasted on me, Jack. Just get your butt in the truck before you fall down and embarrass yourself."

The colonel glowered hard. "That was my intention – the only thing is you're in my seat."

Seemingly oblivious to the resentment emanating from the six foot two man, Jacob started up the engine, and then placed both hands on the steering wheel.

"There's not a hope in hell of you driving Jack, so do yourself a favor, cut the pissy act and get in the damn truck."

He did it, but every movement conveyed his reluctance. However, it was water off a duck's back with Jacob Carter as he put the truck in gear and drove towards the last security gate.

The two armed guards on duty did not automatically raise the barrier as was their usual custom once they'd recognized the occupants and the vehicle was required to stop as each airman approached the two sides.

Lowering his window, Jacob passed over a sheet of paper which the SF officer studied carefully whereupon he gave a sharp salute, nodded to his colleague and the obstruction was raised.

Throwing a disgruntled look at the driver, Jack asked, "What was that all about?"

The Tok'ra glanced over before returning to watch the road he was traversing. "Just Doc Fraiser making sure all is well with her favorite colonel."

And suddenly Jack knew that all his scheming and planning to escape the infirmary's confines had been for nothing. The Napoleonic head of the SGC had known his plans probably before he'd even thought of them, what about putting them into action and he snorted, his irritation growing by the second. His hands, which had been fiddling with the strap of his seatbelt, clenched into painfully tight fists.

A quick glance from the corner of his eye and Jacob's voice softened. "You need to relax, Jack; we've got a long journey ahead of us. Try to get some sleep."

"What journey?" The question was shot at him like a deadly bullet.

Jacob could already feel the resistance as well as hear it.

"You're not the only one with a cabin – we're going to my place."

"Not a chance!" Sitting up stiffly, Jack now glared heatedly at the driver.

Keeping his eyes on the twisting road down the mountain, Jacob's dry voice cut through the chill air, appearing to take a quiet satisfaction in delivering his next words. "Unless you want me to turn around and hand you over to Janet's tender loving nurses for the coming days, you're stuck with me."

And risking another glance, he noted the slump to his passenger's shoulders, followed by the sullen words, "I want to go home."

"Your decision, Jack, but it's either my place or your own special bed in the infirmary." And seeing the mutinous set to the younger man's features he quipped, "Just don't expect me to give you a bed bath!"

That little wisecrack appeared to do the trick as Jack's shoulders slumped dejectedly as he mumbled, "I'll need some clothes."

"All taken care of." Jacob could feel the cold questioning eyes on him again and explained, "Sam used the spare key and went and chose a few things. They're in the back."

Jacob knew full well that information had not gone down well, could feel the colonel's displeasure. Jack knew it would be futile to protest, yet he made it anyway.

"She may be your daughter," he growled, "but Carter had no damned right to--."

Jacob was nodding his head in a placating manner. "I know, I know Jack, but Sam simply wanted to make things a little smoother for you."

The snort of derision from his passenger conveyed everything and more and Jacob smothered his sigh, keeping his silence, knowing that any effort to mollify Jack would be shot down in flames. He concentrated on the journey ahead.

In due course, the car's rhythm lulled Jack into an exhausted sleep and only when Jacob pulled into a diner's lot four hours later did the lanky colonel raise himself out of his stupor.

Taking a seat opposite the Tok'ra, Jack studied his hands, unaware he was doing so until he was startled by the arrival of the waitress. He looked up almost guiltily, even more surprised to find a glass of milk and a chicken sandwich before him. He stared at the food before him solemnly.

"I didn't order this."

Chewing with gusto on his own steak sandwich, Jacob nodded agreeably. "Doc Fraiser was pretty explicit on your dietary requirements." And seeing the look on Jack's face, continued, "And she was pretty explicit on what would happen to me if I failed to ensure you ate sensibly."

Jack stared at the drink. "I hate milk."

"She said you'd say that and asked me to put forward one other alternative – intravenous."

Even though Jack's dark eyes lay like extinguished lights in their deep sockets, Jacob still saw the flicker of irritation mixed with something else he couldn't ascertain. He reached for his coffee and noting the barely perceptible change in his companion's expression, paused with the cup to his lips.

"This stuff was almost as high on her list of banned substances as alcohol. Don't even think about it." And reaching over, he pushed the cool glass nearer to Jack. "Drink!"

The younger man's natural inclination to dig his heels in warred and faltered against Jacob's determination and with weary resignation Jack lifted the glass to his lips. The sandwich followed though neither was finished. Despite this, the Tok'ra seemed perfectly pleased with the outcome and said no more.

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If he was surprised by the location of the cabin, Jack didn't show it though his eyes were drawn to the fast moving river that flowed swiftly a mere hundred yards from the wooden deck. It was an imposing building which held its own against the natural might of nature, the two standing side by side, worthy opponents.

Seeing the direction of Jack's gaze, Jacob paused as he took two duffels from the backseat, and nodded at the river. "She's not to be treated lightly is that one, Jack."

The younger man turned away making no comment, limping up the steps following Jacob into the warmth offered by the blazing fire which crackled welcomingly in the huge, stone-bricked hearth.

"Ah, thank God for Kate – she's never let me down yet." And the older man's satisfied words matched the expression on his face. "There's nothing like a log fire to take the chill out of the day. I remember when…." Fond memories faded as Jacob noted the stony features on his 'guest's' face. "You'll want to freshen up. Your room's just across the way. Here we are."

He pushed open the door, allowing Jack to enter ahead of him.

Noting the large bed and solid furniture, Jack's attention moved to the view through the patio doors. The wide expanse of timberland continued as far as the horizon and for once Jack felt the weight inside him lift just a little as he approached and opened the doors wide.

Jacob watched him, aware that even though it was getting chilly, this man had a need to feel he was not enclosed by any barriers and if an open glass door was what it took to make O'Neill feel a little less like a prisoner here, then so be it. Placing a bag on the chest at the foot of the bed, Jacob said, "Hope Sam got what you need – I know your Dopp kit is in there. I'll leave you to unpack while I go see what Kate has rustled up for our dinner

There was no acknowledgement from Jack, who continued to stare at the view, and after a few seconds Jacob withdrew, closing the door behind him. As he moved to the open plan kitchen separated from the rest of the room by a breakfast bar, he heard the door of Jack's bedroom open and glancing over his shoulder saw that it was now slightly ajar.

'Damn it all!' he muttered softly under his breath with such vehemence that instantly his eyes glowed brilliantly and deep within Jacob heard the voice of his symbiote, Selmak.

'This is not an easy journey O'Neill must undertake.'

'Hell, Selmak, Jack O'Neill is the most private person I know, and now he can't even…' His inner voice faded away as he shook his head unhappily.

'There will be many manifestations of character at odds with the O'Neill you know and there will be extremes in his behavior that must be borne before he can attain the equilibrium which allows him to be who he is. It will not be painless.'

As the golden light in his eyes faded, Jacob implored the God he still believed in to give him the strength and patience he would surely need to face the hurdles that he knew all too well would have to be faced in helping Jack O'Neill in his recovery.

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(Chpt. 2 to follow)


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 To Hell and Back

Sitting at the breakfast bar, Jacob ate with evident pleasure the chicken casserole that had been left in the oven awaiting their arrival. He had tried to ignore the fact that Jack, sitting next to him, had spent the last ten minutes moving potatoes, various vegetables and chunks of chicken around in the bowl in which it had been served without once attempting to taste it.

"Enough with the strategic maneuv**e**rings, you're not at the Academy; the food's good," he spoke enthusiastically, "Go ahead, and try it before it gets cold."

He couldn't help but notice Jack's hand still as much as it could given the tremors that afflicted him, but as the fork rattled against the dish, the younger man jerked his hand away as if it had been struck, hiding it below the bar, his thin face darkening with frustration.

"Jack."

Dark empty eyes turned to meet Jacob's own before Jack pushed himself to his feet. "I'm tired."

No other words were spoken. He simply pushed his stool back, rose, turned and went to his allocated room, ignoring the feeling of being watched, no longer able to hide the limp or still the worsening trembling of his body. Nor was he able to slam the door of his bedroom as he desperately longed to do, but rather had to leave it a good two inches partially open.

----------------------

He knocked, hesitated a fraction, and then pushed open the door realizing there was zero likelihood of receiving an invitation to enter. He walked in, a glass of milk in one hand, his other extended, holding a number of tablets. And seeing the bleak scowl when dark brown eyes fixed on the drink, he explained crisply, "If you don't eat, this is what you get – your choice. Complain to the management if the system sucks."

But there were no complaints, no words spoken at all, and much to the Tok'ra's surprise and relief, the capsules were swallowed and the milk consumed. And yet Jacob couldn't help but have an inkling of discomfort – it was all proving just a little too easy for his liking. A quiet, acquiescent Jack O'Neill was not what he'd been expecting.

'Well,' he thought musingly, 'I'll just have to wait and see what tomorrow holds in store.' And giving Jack a gentle goodnight, he left the room, careful to leave the door as he had found it.

---------

Even in his sleep he knew it was imminent, knew that the slithering beast was coming, knew that the pain would be excruciating. As in previous nights his head tossed against the pillow and the heat of his body increased so that his boxers and T-shirt were soaked in sweat. He murmured unintelligible words while behind his eyelids his eyes moved rapidly. There followed a period in which his body fought this nightly battle as arduously as any fought in reality, culminating in him rearing up and screaming himself awake knowing that in the next seconds he would certainly expel anything which was in his stomach. He felt the burning bile rising to his throat and wrestled madly with the sheets, desperate to be free, to attempt to make it to the bathroom. Sobbing in frustration he knew that he wasn't going to manage, that the ignominy of puking all over himself was yet again his to experience. As his upper body convulsed, Jack was vaguely aware of a cool hand at his back while a bowl was placed in front of his mouth as he heaved his insides out.

He was hazily conscious of gruff words of encouragement as his stomach churned and roiled until there was nothing left and then a cool, damp cloth was passed over his face and he felt himself being lowered back as the weight of exhaustion took over. And when he would have liked nothing more than to sink into a worn-out sleep Jacob was tugging him up, heedless of the trembling of his limbs or the weakly snarled curses Jack threw at him in the vain hope he would be left the hell alone.

Later, lying in clean boxers and t-shirt on fresh bedding, his haunted eyes hidden behind a raised arm, he had sensed Jacob leaving and had muttered dryly, "I thought you didn't do bed baths."

Looking over his shoulder, the Tok'ra had seen the utter vulnerability of the ill man and was relieved his daughter wasn't there to witness it, for it would, he knew, have shattered her.

"I'm always willing to make an exception...get some rest, Jack."

"What time is it?"

"Two hairs past a freckle. Now go back to sleep; don't even think I'm going to let you sleep in."

Too tired to argue, the younger man allowed his weary eyes to close though he knew sleep would not come easily, if at all.

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Jacob had to wonder which of the two was more relieved that the ordeal of breakfast was over. Certainly he'd put watching the Colonel play with his oatmeal on a par with watching grass grow, spectacularly dull until, that is, he had indicated his own willingness to spoon feed the invalid. And for just one moment the possibility that the contents might end up round his ears had been keenly felt as he watched the airman's grip on the bowl tighten, but the moment passed, possibly due to the fact that Jacob had promised him an interesting lesson on food etiquette should he be the least bit tempted, and the Tok'ra had been able to relax in his seat, relieved that the tension, for the moment at least, had passed without mishap.

-------------------------------

"Get your boots on."

Having just slumped into an easy chair, Jack's enthusiasm to comply with the order was noticeable in the way he simply ignored the Tok'ra as if he hadn't spoken.

Jacob snorted, shaking his head knowingly. "Jack, I've experienced life with two rebellious teenagers - your silent treatment is nothing new."

'Carter, a rebellious teenager?' The thought would have been provokingly entertaining had he not realized he'd allowed his thoughts to wander into prohibited territory, so Jack massaged his protesting knee, the pain quickly erasing any thoughts he might have had of a blonde, blue-eyed female.

A pair of his black, leather boots was dropped heavily at his feet.

"Get them on."

Head bent, his face hidden, still the reluctance dripped from him like the sweat of a fever-ridden illness.

"Don't shoot the messenger, Jack. It's another on Janet's list of things to do - exercise, so that means in my book we go out and explore."

Forcing a stale smile to his stiff lips, the younger man replied dryly, "I appreciate the offer and don't take this the wrong way, Jacob, but I like to do that sort of thing on my own."

"Ah, well..."

Jack knew he was cringing as the sound of Jacob's words grated on his already frayed nerves.

"What?" he demanded testily.

"That was one of Janet's daily no-nos."

And seeing the look, Jacob raised both hands in an all too obvious conciliatory way.

"Like I said before Jack, take it up with management."

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The walk was moderate by any standards, the Tok'ra leading his despondent ward with care; insuring nothing too demanding faced the airman. Having crested a gentle rise, Jacob paused to take in the vista of lush valley parted by a winding river which led to far off snow-peaked mountains before them.

He drank from a water bottle and then passed it to Jack who accepted it with a nod of thanks. Feet splayed slightly apart to support his trembling legs the man drank deeply, his chest rising and falling as he worked at taking in the oxygen needed to feed his aching body.

"Not a bad view, eh, Jack? It's Sam's favorite spot; a place that has brought her peace when she's needed it."

Jacob sensed his companion's spine stiffen followed by the curt retort,

"Can the tour spiel, Jacob; save your breath for those who're interested."

Swallowing the invective that sprang to his lips as well as the desire to cuff the obdurate man, Jacob smiled tightly and ignored the bad manners.

"Okay, Jack. Let's get back."

---------------------------------

Although the head of SG-1 would have liked to have thought he'd hidden his discomfort over the last haul of the return journey, he knew he'd be fooling no one but himself, but it still irked when Jacob casually ordered him to relax on the sofa while he went to fix lunch.

"Not hungry," he muttered crankily.

Without pausing to take breath, Jacob retorted, "Not interested in that reply, Jack. Just park your butt and I'll have something to tempt your appetite in a flash."

The Tok'ra ignored the muttered curse the same as he ignored the dark scowl a little later when he thrust a tray on Jack's lap containing a bowl of homemade chicken soup and a warm bread roll plus the ubiquitous medication. Returning with another tray, Jacob snagged a comfortable chair and began to consume the food with gusto, trying his hardest to pay no heed to the lack of any movement across from him, but once his food was consumed Jacob resigned himself to having it out with his guest.

Realizing what was coming, Jack decided to beat Jacob to it.

"I'm not eating it."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

"Want to bet?"

Resentment burned through the younger man at the smug, patronizing tone of the Tok'ra and everything he detested about the supercilious race rose up relentlessly, a tidal wave that could not be stopped.

The cabin's front door closed with a resounding noise and both men, about to face each other off, turned as one to the sound.

"Kate!" Jacob's whole demeanour transformed as his brown eyes alighted on the slim figure of the woman who now stood before them, her back to the closed door, her green eyes twinkling, and the hint of a smile touching her warm lips. Her hair, a silver grey, was tied in a thick plait which lay over one shoulder.

More sensitive than many, she realised instantly that she had disturbed the two men before her at a vital moment.

Smiling hesitantly, she murmured softly, "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important." Her green eyes moved to Jacob's seeking reassurance.

But before Jacob could reply, Jack had risen, sliding the tray smoothly to the side, and approached the woman, hand extended in greeting almost concealing his infirmity.

"I'm Jack O'Neill, two 'Ls'; pleased to meet you, Kate."

Aware that the atmosphere was crackling with electricity, Kate's eyes flickered again to Jacob before returning to Jack. Her smile widened as she shook his hand firmly, noting the sickly pallor and over-loose clothes on too slim a frame.

"Jack."

The warning was there for the Colonel's ears only and like a defiant teenager knowing he had an escape exit, he chose to ignore it, giving Kate a brilliant smile and continuing, "I was just off to watch the fish swim - please excuse me, ma'am, Jacob."

Once the door had closed behind him, Jacob swore softly and fervently. "Damn the man!"

Slipping off her warm, woollen jacket and hanging it up at the door, Kate now turned and asked, "Is there a problem?"

"That's putting it mildly."

She removed her thick sheepskin boots. Dressed in black trousers and white blouse, Jacob's eyes instantly changed from irritated to interested.

"I wasn't expecting you today."

His dark eyes roamed her face and her swift retort had him instantly backtracking. "I can go if it isn't convenient."

"No, no, no!" And then seeing the mischief in her eyes he shook his head, groaning, "Hey, you. There's only so much aggravation a man can take and one pain-in-the-butt Jack O'Neill fills all the necessary requirements, thank you very much!"

She joined him at the breakfast bar, accepting the steaming cup of coffee he proffered. "Not going according to plan, huh?" she asked sympathetically.

Jacob's eyebrows rose as he snorted, "Where a certain air force colonel with attitude is concerned, there's never a plan. You fly by the seat of your pants and just hope for the best."

Kate smiled understandingly. "Maybe I can help?"

-----------------

"Hi, Jack."

He'd been deep in thought and hadn't heard her approach, which he found slightly disconcerting. His eyes tracked past her and she was quick to understand.

"Jake's busy. I thought maybe you'd like a drink." And noting his suspicion, she explained, "It's coffee."

Kate didn't miss the spark of surprise in his shadowed eyes, but as he reached out, she took one step back, ensuring the drink was out of reach.

"Ah, ah. There are conditions."

He snorted in undisguised annoyance and made to turn his back on her in typical Jack O'Neill sulk mode.

Not to be outdone, Kate raised her chin and asked innocently, "Did I say this was coffee?" allowing the tempting aroma closer.

It had been months, if you took the time he'd taken the Tok'ra symbiote until now, since he'd last drunk the stuff, so the bait held too great an allure to be ignored no matter how much Jack would have liked to have paid her no heed. Grudgingly unwilling, Jack turned back to face the woman.

"I'm waiting!" he snapped.

"So am I," came Kate's quick-fire reply.

She noted that he had the grace to flush and lower his eyes at her words.

"What conditions, ma'am?" His tone had dropped its mockery and was accordingly respectful.

"This coffee isn't very strong, but from what Jake tells me, it's been a long time since you've had any, so it should still hold a kick - it's made with milk and sweetened with honey."

She watched as he assimilated all the information and noted with satisfaction that he hadn't rejected her offer. Carefully, she held out the offering and Jack took it, the hint of desire touching his eyes. As he raised the mug, Kate held out her other hand palm up, a number of tablets resting there.

A shadow passed over his features and he grimaced. "Should have known - it was too easy," he mumbled grudgingly, but he took the medication, surprised when Kate wrapped a sweater round his shoulders and then turned her back and started to return to the cabin.

"Hey," he called, "aren't you forgetting something?"

"Am I?" she challenged, looking over her shoulder. And then seeing the surprise register in dark brown eyes, she smiled kindly and said, "I don't think so - you look like a man I can trust."

Jack watched her until she disappeared through the cabin's front door. He shook his head.

"Damn!"

He looked distastefully at the pills then dry swallowed them in one go before allowing himself the pure pleasure of drinking the coffee. He closed his eyes as the hot drink warmed both his hands and his insides, savoring the taste. He didn't even stop to think that he was consuming milk - it was good, more than good he admitted and for the first time in a long time, he actually enjoyed what he was consuming.

Jacob was awaiting Kate's return practically grabbing her as she re-entered the cabin's welcoming warmth.

"Well?"

"Well what?"

That same twinkle had the Tok'ra groaning. "Woman, if Jack doesn't finish me, you will." And he pulled her towards him in a warm embrace that held future promises. As her own arms encircled him, she grinned, the years falling from her face making her appear much younger than her fifty-three years.

"He took it?" He sounded surprised. "Did you watch him take his meds?" he asked warily.

Kate's simple negative had him groaning and shaking his head. "Hell, Kate, they'll be at the bottom of the river as we speak!"

"No, they won't."

Her firm conviction had his eyes meeting hers perplexedly. "And how can you be so sure?"

Kate smiled, the color in her cheeks making her appear even more attractive. Jacob's thoughts were warring between his worry for his resentful guest and his growing desire to take this woman to his bed right here and now.

"Because I'm holding him to his honor code."

"You're wha-at?" Jacob couldn't help the grunt of derision that escaped him. He looked totally baffled.

Unperturbed, Kate answered confidently, "Jack knows I trust him - he won't break that trust."

Shaking his head again, Jacob groaned, "This isn't the Academy, Kate." But seeing her conviction, he murmured softly, "I hope you're right, but Jack and meds..." He left the remainder of the sentence unfinished.

Looking somewhat smug, Kate answered, "I am. And you should know better than to doubt me."

His brown eyes flashing, he responded strongly, "Oh, it's not you I'm doubting - but sitting out there is the personification of everything obstinate, ornery, demanding and totally wilful; it's his own way or nothing. I've known damned pre-schoolers with better discipline skills than Jack O'Neill...What?" And seeing the light twinkling in Kate's eyes, he exclaimed indignantly, "You think I'm exaggerating? Hell, Kate, hang around and you'll learn exactly what I'm talking about!"

"I've come to do some cleaning, General Carter, not to stand around and let you bend my ear." And with a saucy twist of her slender body, she escaped Jacob's hold, casting a cheeky grin his way. "You know, there's someone I know, who doesn't take too kindly when things don't go his way either - it seems to me..."

Aghast, Jacob held up both hands as if warding off evil. His voice was full of reproach. "Don't tell me you're comparing us?" he demanded clearly aghast.

"Well you did say Sam had feelings for the man. She loves you, therefore..."

"Argh! Enough! That's more than my stomach can take."

( Chpt. 3 to follow)


	3. Chapter 3

Just a little reminder to all you readers and in particular those who have been kind enough to review - bear a passing thought for Nell, my much put upon beta.

Chapter 3 To Hell and Back

Like a child, he used his finger to catch all the froth that had clung to the inside of his mug, savoring every last bubble, then setting it down on the stone, he resumed his observation of the surging water as his mind flowed on just as turbulently. He wondered about a possible romantic relationship between the woman visiting and Carter's father, surprised at his own surprise. At which an annoying voice in his head piped up slyly, _'Not every divorcee and widower takes the oath of chastity._'

'I've had women since Sara,' he answered it aggrieved.

_'But since Sam_?' the voice demanded maliciously.

He jerked himself out of his painful internal conversation and shivered in the chill afternoon air, grateful for the sweater Kate had lent him.

Disinclined to return inside, but aware it was getting too cold to stay sitting, he rose to his feet, the weariness he felt making his limp all the more evident as he walked back to the cabin. The sound of a vacuum cleaner coming from his own bedroom told him where Kate was, but there was no sign of Jacob. He rinsed his mug and placed it in the dishwasher then turned to find Kate watching him from his bedroom door. She turned the machine off smiling at him.

"Did you enjoy it?"

He returned her smile, unable to hold onto his habitual scowl when he was talking to her. "Yeah, thanks."

He moved to the sofa, sinking into it gratefully and she came and took a seat opposite him, relaxed and at ease in his company.

"You do know Jake's only on your case because he's worried about you?"

Shocked that the conversation had become so personal so quickly; Jack's eyes met Kate's in surprise. He had grown used to people staying well clear of anything private when it came to himself; ever since the death of his son, he'd given off an aura of 'no entry - keep out' when it came to his privacy and so now he was taken aback to find someone who was not only willing to broach the taboo subject, but who showed no fear whatsoever.

"Well he doesn't need to be; I'm a big boy," he said curtly and would have stood to end the conversation except his frailty, combined with her next words, stopped him.

"I used to like to think I didn't need anyone; that I was so self-sufficient I could face the world and anything it had to throw at me. I learned the lesson the long, hard way - I lost a brother in Vietnam and a son in Iraq. When that happened I thought nothing else could touch me. My husband and I parted. Then, much later, I was reintroduced to Jake - I'd known his wife in the early years of service when our two husbands were stationed in Washington. Somehow, he made his presence felt and I had to face up to just how empty my life actually was."

Feeling herself blush like a young schoolgirl, Kate rose to her feet suddenly shy. "I'm as bad as Jake when it comes to chattering. I apologize. I just wanted you to know that for all his blunt approach...he cares." And giving him another soft smile, Kate resumed her duties, leaving Jack alone.

When Jacob found him resting on the sofa an hour later, he was staggered to find for the first time since their arrival that Jack was lacking the aggression that had surrounded him like a second skin. And what was more, over dinner, which Kate had prepared and stayed to join, Jack had made no excuses but had eaten without complaint and had even joined in the light conversation. As the evening progressed, he had eventually excused himself and retired to his bedroom as much to allow the couple some time alone as from his own weariness.

Eyebrows raised in amazement, Jacob lifted his wine glass to Kate in salute and drank deeply.

"If this is the effect you have on Jack O'Neill, then I'll have to insist you take up permanent residence here."

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But if Jacob had thought it would all be a smooth ride from now on, the following morning set the record straight.

Yet again Sam's father found himself roused from his sleep by the strangled cries of O'Neill and yet again he managed to make it to the younger man's side just as he awoke from his frenzied nightmare, holding the basin to the heaving man's mouth as he lost everything there had been in his stomach. The ritual followed the same order as in previous mornings and ended with Jacob passing the trembling man a dampened cloth to wipe his face. But whereas on previous occasions Jacob had then left Jack to recuperate, this particular morning he sat on the edge of the bed and gave the pale man an appraising look.

"How long are you going to let this go on?"

Jacob saw the tightening of the muscles around the man's mouth and eyes and knew he had hit a nerve.

"You can't block her out forever, Jack. Sooner or later you're going to have to face her; it's the only way you're going to get this out of your system. Hell's bells man, you've woken crying out her name every morning since you've been here," Jacob insisted, his dark eyes piercing the man in the bed. "Doesn't that tell you something?"

Weary beyond words, Jack's fury drove him to push himself up and in silence he limped past Jacob entering the bathroom and for once he slammed shut the door with a crashing sound that reverberated round the room.

Shaking his head, Jacob stood wrinkling his nose at the contents of the bowl he still held in his hands. If this went on, he would have to take Jack back to the SGC and admit he'd failed. It would mean the worst - Jack would fall into the hands of McKenzie and that he knew might be the end of the colonel's career.

Still, Jacob was unwilling to give up so easily even in the face of Jack's persistent inflexibility and later, having made breakfast of oatmeal and fresh juice, he decided he'd given his guest enough space and enough of his own way. He was prepared to face the man.

Knocking on the open bedroom door, he didn't wait for permission to enter knowing it might never come, but as he readied himself for the strong lecture he intended giving, the words died on his lips as he realized the room and adjoining bathroom were empty.

"Damn!"

Within him, Selmak's calm voice invaded his thoughts. 'Leave him.'

Annoyed, Jacob responded tartly, 'Easy for you to say. You do know what our future is if anything happens to him?'

Flustered neither by the question nor the tone in which it was uttered, Selmak answered with his own pertinent question. 'Are you speaking of what Dr. Fraiser will do to you or what Samantha will do?'

Swearing earnestly, Jacob refused to give an answer and strode out in search of the absent man. He didn't have far to go, finding him on the bank of the river, perched on a boulder, throwing stones into the fast flowing water. A further obscenity passed his lips when he realized Jack had again no sweater or jacket against the crisp morning air. Yanking off his own sweater, he wrapped it round O'Neill's shoulders and joined him on the rock admonishing him dryly, "Do you want pneumonia to join your list of ailments?"

Grimacing, Jack growled tiredly, "You can quit the mother hen routine; it kind of doesn't go with your kick ass Tok'ra persona." He made to stand but Jacob's hand pressed down insistently on his shoulder.

"We're trying to help you here, Jack."

Eyes flashing dangerously, the younger man snapped, "Did I ask for it?"

"I'll let you tell me that tomorrow morning when you're puking your guts up."

Instantly, Jack's irritation levels rose to meet and exceed Jacob's and he snarled, "Why the hell don't you complain to management and get a transfer?"

But Jacob hadn't made general without having had the experience of dealing with difficult and demanding personalities and his sharp reply, "So you'd prefer Bra'tac?" had Jack's eyes widening in shock.

"Somehow, I doubt he'd adopt the kid glove approach," the Tok'ra mocked.

"And you do?" challenged Jack.

Raising his eyes to heaven, Jacob looked as if he were seeking divine inspiration until his gaze returned to the sullen man beside him.

"Inside - it's time for breakfast."

"I'm not-."

"I don't want to hear it, Jack. C'mon."

Tugging on the other's arm he got the reluctant colonel on his feet and together they walked side by side back to the cabin.

"And what delights do you have in store for me today, General?"

Overlooking the truculent tone, Jacob answered calmly, "After breakfast, the first thing, which I know you'll find truly entertaining, is me watching you take your meds and following that..."

Unbidden, Jack had a sudden insight into why and how Sam managed to deal with his own brand of sarcasm - she'd heard enough before from her own father and so was adept at fielding her CO's own barbs or letting them roll off her back. Refusing to allow his thoughts to yet again wander so freely in prohibited terrain, Jack jerked his mind back to the present and scowled, blocking out the remainder of Jacob's words.

-----------------------

"Are you going to eat it or experiment on it?" The light, bantering tone broke through Sam's introspection and she came back to the present with a start, her pale features coloring to have been found daydreaming.

She grinned wryly at Janet, who had taken a seat opposite her in the commissary and was sipping on a hot, double-strength coffee, and set her oatmeal aside. "Just not in the mood for the stuff I guess."

She could feel her friend's eyes on her as she hastily turned her attention to her own coffee, staring into the brown liquid as if it held the answer to all the mysteries of the universe.

"How's the shoulder?"

She flexed it automatically, wincing as sore muscles protested. "Getting better. I'm looking forward to those light duties you promised me in a week or so." She raised her head, blue eyes meeting questioning brown orbs, but just as quickly she dropped them.

"I thought I'd phone your dad later; find out what's going on." The doctor watched carefully to see if there would be any reaction to her suggestion.

Sam concentrated hard on the swirls her spoon was making in the brown liquid. She wondered how many ripples she could actually make without spilling the coffee.

"Sam!"

She jerked and watched as the table top was splattered with the liquid. 'Damn! Not so clever, Sam,' she scolded herself.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Yes."

"And?"

Her eyes abruptly narrowed and Janet knew she'd hit the spot. "And what am I supposed to say? Didn't the Colonel make it perfectly clear he didn't want me to visit him? And that was when he was in the infirmary."

Sam stabbed at the oatmeal. "I don't know about you, Janet, but there's very little ambiguity when you're told to your face to "Quote. STAY THE HELL AWAY! Unquote." When she raised her head once more, the hurt was all too obvious and Janet had to stop herself reaching over and giving her a hug.

"Come on, Sam. You know the Colonel. He was in withdrawal and anyway you know he's never done the patient thing all that well, and this…" she frowned trying to find words to fit the situation, "he's never been…"

"Tortured to death. The expression you're looking for is 'tortured to death!'" Sam spat the words at her friend then instantly regretted her aggression. Mortification suffused her pale face and her eyes shone with unshed tears. "Janet, I…I'm sorry, I…I didn't mean--."

"It's okay, Sam." This time Janet did reach out and take one of her hands in her own. "We're all worried about him but I know, if anyone can sort this out, a Carter is the one to do it."

Hope wrestled with doubt. "You think so?"

"I know so."

--------------------------

(Chapter 4 to follow)


	4. Chapter 4

8

_**Warning: Language**_

_And to all those wondering how on earth this story can fall under the romance genre - it begins._

Chapter 4 To Hell and Back

As on previous days, Jacob took Jack walking, always alternating the route to add interest, slowly but surely ensuring it was a little more demanding each time. Gradually, Jack had begun to build up his stamina, extending the length of time he could walk and cope with inclines. The weather helped, being neither too hot nor too cold and the skies remained brilliantly blue.

But on this day Jacob noticed that his companion was having difficulty dealing with the hike. At first it was simply the man lagging behind, but after only a short time Jack had started to show signs of distress and in the end Jacob had called a halt which was all too gratefully accepted as the younger man sank wearily to the ground, his back resting against the trunk of a huge tree offering shade from the mid-morning sun.

Having pressed a bottle of water into Jack's hand, an unpleasant thought struck him and he looked at the other man suspiciously.

"Did you take all your meds this morning?" The words conveyed borderline patience.

There was an indistinguishable grunt from Jack and his head, which had been resting on his chest, lifted cautiously though his dark eyes were hidden in the shadows of his peaked cap.

"Damn you, Jack, look at me." The glare that accompanied the words could have stopped a freight train but it was lost on the one it was meant for - still there was failure to make eye contact. "...I said, look at me! Now tell me you took everything Doc Fraiser prescribed."

Already, the Tok'ra could see the light film of sweat coating Jack's face and neck, furthermore he could not only see but feel the resistance radiating off the sick man.

Jacob groaned, realizing he should have known better; he'd been lulled into a false sense of security when it had all been going far too easy. His open hand slapped the ground angrily though it was nowhere near as satisfying as making contact with a certain intractable air force colonel's head.

"Dammit, Jack. If your intention is to piss me off, then you're going about it the right way!"

Yet despite the older man's tone and forbidding expression, Jack snorted, his head shooting up to reveal sunken eyes filled with a desperate anger.

"Just what the hell are you going to do, huh? Throw knives at me; pour acid into my open wounds? Seen it, done it, got the T-shirt," he sneered, "so do me a favor and leave me the f-ck alone!"

Smiling grimly, Jacob shook his head slowly.

"Believe me, Jack, I'll be the first to relinquish my baby sitting duties the moment you stop acting like a--."

'Jacob!' Selmak's warning voice interrupted the critical flow. 'Now is not the time for this lesson - he weakens.'

And it was true. Jack's breathing had grown more labored as his skin took on a greyish hue yet still he insisted on pushing away the hand Jacob placed on his forehead.

The older man shook his head ruefully. "You know, Jack, I'm trying to decide whether kicking your butt - and I'm not speaking metaphorically here - is going to meet with Doc Fraiser's approval or not." And seeing the confusion in pain-filled eyes, the older man elaborated. "It just might be that she'd like to do the honors herself."

Too tired to even decide whether or not Sam's father was joking, Jack concentrated on living with the mother of all headaches while holding on to the oatmeal breakfast he had managed to consume earlier. In truth, all he wanted to do was crawl under the nearest rock until this sickness had passed or he just faded into oblivion, but it seemed Jacob had other ideas and had taken it upon himself, in conjunction with the medical people of the SGC, to follow a more orthodox system of treatment which didn't sit too well with the colonel most times and in particular now.

"How're you feeling?"

"Like shit."

"Don't flatter yourself."

"Thanks."

Jacob wasn't about to ignore the iron dry tone. "Let this be a lesson to--."

'Jacob!' Selmak's voice had Jacob wincing with his own pain.

"Okay, okay...Think you can walk the rest of the way?"

Nodding, Jack swallowed convulsively as he felt the bitter nausea start to rise in his gut. He groaned as Jacob hauled him to his feet, swaying until his head cleared. Slowly the two began the journey back to the cabin and Jack was unresisting when a little into the journey the Tok'ra took his arm placing it over his shoulder and gave his support. It was sorely needed.

-------------------------

"Put me down." The demand was barely audible but to the Tok'ra's acute hearing it was enough.

Jacob's mouth tightened. "And what, Jack? See you fall on your ass again like last time?" The sarcasm was heavy and sharp as Jacob shifted the weight of the six foot two airman over his shoulder, his own wheezing breath testimony to how tired he was.

"Believe me, I will be more than happy to be relieved of my load, but the only other way you'll be making it to the cabin is by medi-vac and something tells me you won't be too keen on coming face to face with Doc right now."

Still Jack resisted. "Jacob." Though only one word, it was filled with reproach but Sam's father resolutely ignored the unspoken message.

"Jack, at some point in the not too distant future, you and I are going to have an adult to juvenile talk about taking your meds, and at that time there is likely to be some serious thumping to accompany said talk, but for now just shut up and let me do my job."

------------------------

He was dumped unceremoniously on the sofa with the sharp command not to move and seeing Jack's expression, Jacob snapped, "That wasn't a suggestion!" Then taking up his cell phone he punched in a speed dial key and waited, ignoring the look of betrayal he was receiving from the reclining man. Rapid fire answers swiftly followed his opening words and Jack's stomach dropped at the thought of having to speak with Janet. Then again, he knew he wouldn't be given much chance to get a word in; it would definitely be a one-sided conversation.

So having expected an earache of noise over the line, Jack was more than surprised when Jacob snapped shut the phone, though the ominous words "You can count on it," did send his already frayed nerves into further confusion. He watched as Sam's father then marched into Jack's bedroom. He returned shortly peering closely at four small canisters containing capsules and now gave Jack a withering stare.

"Okay, which meds didn't you take? No, let me rephrase that. Which, if any, did you take?"

Understanding the expression from the other man, Jacob's eyes narrowed further as he slapped some capsules into Jack's palm then gave him some water. Having watched them being consumed, he was not impressed at seeing no form of contrition on the younger man's face.

"Dammit, Jack. When are you going to grow up?" And knowing full well he'd have to wait till hell froze over before getting a satisfactory reply, he snapped, "I'm going into town for supplies. If I stay in your company a minute longer..." He allowed the other man to come to his own conclusions about what he wasn't saying.

As he strode to the door, his back stiff with anger, the Air Force Colonel's bitterly spoken words reached his ears.

"Just why the hell are you doing this?"

Jacob stilled but kept his back to the other man, sadness on his face that could not be seen. "Why do you think, Jack?" he demanded softly.

"Guilt."

Unable to hide his genuine surprise, Jacob turned, his eyes widening.

"Why the hell should I be feeling guilty?"

"Not you!"

As understanding dawned, Jacob sighed deeply. "You're wrong there, Colonel. If I'd done this out of guilt on Sam's part, you can be sure you'd have been back in Doc Fraiser's hands a long time ago."

Cool brown eyes impacted on warmer colored ones.

"Then why?"

Jacob shrugged nonchalantly, his earlier anger having dissipated as quickly as it had come.

"That symbiotic relationship that Selmak and I share, I've seen it mirrored in SG-1." The Tok'ra's eyes narrowed as he saw the revulsion flash across the injured man's face. And seeing the repugnance still in Jack's eyes, continued, "You can't deny the bond with your team, Jack; when you hurt they do, too. And that obviously makes it my business."

He saw the shutters coming down like a guillotine but allowed that it wasn't time to call Jack out on it. Yet. The time would come, just not now. And seeing Jack place an arm over his face to shut him out, Jacob shook his head and walked out.

-----------------------

As Daniel's name was muttered in his sleep, Jack tossed his head from side to side, reliving his troubled arguments with the ascended archaeologist, unwilling even in his dreams to accept what he was being advised. He called the man's name again, more forcefully and when the gentle shake of his arm pulled him out of his sleep he honestly expected to open his eyes and have the man/spirit waiting to continue the argument.

"Dammit, Daniel, we could just as easily have finished--."

"Jack?"

He stiffened, all too aware that the voice he was hearing did not belong to his ascended friend. He purposely kept his eyes closed not wishing to face the look he was sure would be on Jacob's face.

''Jacob?'' He opened his eyes feigning tiredness to conceal his wariness and to give him time to prepare. He'd been up on report before enough commanding officers to know that tone of voice and that look.

"Bad dream?"

Not a muscle moved. "Not that I can remember."

"You seemed to be having a conversation with Daniel." Jacob was skewering him with his what-the-hell's-going-on-here look as if he could dig out the information he needed, but still Jack acted as if he didn't know what the man was talking about.

"You said yourself, it was a dream. You know what it's like, half the time you wake up and can't remember a thing. That must be the case here."

As he swung his legs round to a sitting position, his eyes flickered up trying to assess how well his explanation had been received but just as quickly skittered away. He'd seen that same stare on Carter's face when he knew he'd pissed her off, but being her CO she'd been unable to follow through. That wasn't the case with this Carter.

"Just like you not remembering to take your meds, eh, Jack?"

Adopting his most deadpan expression, Jack shrugged, deciding silence was his best recourse.

"We all miss him."

"I've gotta pee."

Jacob shook his head yet again at the man's immature way of dismissing anything he did not wish to deal with, the flare of annoyance making him snappish. "Would it harm you just to talk about Daniel for once? I think Sam would have--."

If Jack's stiff back failed to convey his message as he walked past Jacob, the slamming door did it to perfection.

Shaking with a rage he had held on to in silent desperation, it had taken every semblance of restraint for Jack to walk out of the room without physically lashing out. Any surface would have done - door, wall, Tok'ra. It made no difference as long as he could feel his fists and feet making solid contact. But such a luxury was one he could ill afford, so the only other alternative was to...

---------------------

His fists pounded the steering wheel with a ferocity borne of such hatred that he didn't even feel his knuckles split open, didn't feel the impact of bones against inanimate object, didn't feel the pain of bruised flesh. Hopes dashed like shattered glass, he laid his head on the steering wheel, a picture of utter misery.

He wasn't even aware when the vehicle's door was opened until Jacob's gentle voice startled him like a new born colt and he shied away from the unwanted contact.

"What are you doing, Jack?"

His face still hidden, he snorted dully, "What does it look like?"

"You've only to ask and I'll take you anywhere you--."

"A bar, I want to go to a f-cking bar!" Dark, flashing eyes rose to meet the Tok'ra's, the anger no less diminished, the glare challenging. "I want to get so stinking drunk that I won't even remember my name. Is that okay with you, General Carter?"

His tone was nothing short of scathing in its vehemence yet Jacob refused the bait of this confrontation, gently tilting his head while replying, "No can do."

Bristling with indignation, he drew a deep, torn breath and countered aggressively, "You just told me that if I asked, you'd take me anywhere. Well, I'm asking." Despising himself for his own weakness he was still unable to hide the pleading note.

"Anywhere within reason."

"Screw you!"

And with an energy borne of pure resentment, Jack lunged from the truck, brushing past the older man, almost wishing the Tok'ra would react to his juvenile behavior allowing him to retaliate in kind.

---------------------

"I...I don't think it's a good idea."

"And you came to that conclusion, how?"

Sam sighed, closing her eyes, picturing her father's expression. She knew that tone well, could count on one hand the number of times she'd come up against that indomitable attitude and come out on top. Yet despite this knowledge, still she baulked at what she was being asked, reluctant to find herself again in the lion's den.

"Have you forgotten you were the one who came to me about this? Well, he still needs your help"

"And have you forgotten where it got him the last time I allowed myself to get involved?" she threw back at him. Jacob might not be able to see the reproach in her face, but he could certainly hear it.

"That wasn't your fault, Sam."

"Tell that to the Colonel," she retorted scornfully.

The silence went on and on until Jacob broke it. "Sam, he's a mess. He needs you."

"He was calling for Daniel, not me,"

"Daniel's not here. You are...Sam, I'm struggling here."

Gripping her cell phone, Sam ground her teeth together wondering yet again how her mother had stayed sane having to deal with that mind-set. Infuriating didn't even begin to cover it. And yet there could be no denying what she felt. She missed Jack; his absence a deep pool of pain within her which she knew would never heal unless...

---------------------------------------

(Chpt. 5 to follow)


	5. Chapter 5

_To all those shippers, life gets a little more interesting._

_Once again, my heartfelt thanks to Nell, the best beta any writer could hope to have!_

Chapter 5 To Hell and Back

His hold on the rod was minimal as he lazed in the fold-up chair, appearing to the entire world as if he were totally relaxed. Wearing a grey checked, short-sleeved shirt in the late afternoon sun, his shoulders tensed as he felt the cool bite of the autumn air heralding a possible change in the warm weather of the past few days. Dark glasses and a baseball cap hid much of his features, but as footsteps sounded behind him, a tightening of his mouth above stubble jaw could clearly be distinguished as he sat straighter in his chair, gripping the rod in a manner which indicated irritation.

"For crying out loud, Jacob, I'm never gonna catch a thing if you make so much damned noise!" And not turning away from the river, he continued in a tone conveying his deeper impatience, "And if you've got any more of Doc's pills, I swear they're going straight in..."

"Hello, Sir."

He stilled, unconsciously clamping down on his jaw; his face going blank as his features hardened to reveal nothing.

"Carter."

His voice was as disinterested as his expression yet despite the fact that the hard edge to his voice was missing, the tiny light of hope died within her in the instant she heard him; without even seeing his face she was left in no doubt as to how he felt about her presence. She closed her eyes, the only way she knew to hide the intensity of the pain which ripped through her.

He stood abruptly, reeling in the line and turned to face her.

An awkward silence settled over them and Sam grimaced in discomfort even as she assimilated his slight weight gain and the fact that his eyes no longer looked so hollow and glazed since the last time she'd seen him in the infirmary. Then with no other form of acknowledgement spoken, he walked right past her as if she weren't even there.

She took a deep breath, disappointed in herself. She'd thought that when the time came she'd know what to say, but seeing the hostility so blatantly burning into her, every cognizant thought shrivelled. Steeling herself to face the brick wall he'd erected, she delved deep and forced herself to say words she had long kept buried deep within her.

"I...I wanted to see you." 'Dammit, I needed to see you!'

As if hearing her unspoken cry, he halted, feeling something shudder inside, eyes staring straight ahead, heart beating so fast he wondered if it could be heard by Sam.

"Did Jacob know you were coming?" Then rolling his eyes at his own stupidity, he turned on his heel and snapped bitingly, "Oh I get it - he asked you to come, needed some back up."

The smile she had pasted on faltered. "Sir, the last time we spoke, I--."

"Enough, Major. I don't want to hear it." His tone couldn't have been more dismissive so that Sam colored, her blue eyes showing their distress as she tried to reason with a man who was beyond reasoning. Her courage almost faltered but she felt compelled to try again.

"Don't do this, Colonel." she pleaded softly.

"Don't do what?" he asked softly, dangerously.

"Shut me out."

The intensity of her plea stilled him and just for the briefest moment she thought, **hoped**, that she'd reached him, but as she watched, a cruel smile tugged at the corner of his mouth and she knew she was going to wish she'd never made this journey.

"You were never there to shut out."

And as he heard the sharp intake of her breath, his icy smile grew wider still and he turned and walked away, for once uncaring of the limp.

----------------------------

His intention had been to get as far away from the cabin as was possible, and it was sheer coincidence that he'd moved away from the paths and hit a road, but when a tow-truck passed him by and then pulled over to offer him a ride into town, he decided to make the most of the opportunity presented. This spur of the moment decision was about to reap him a longed for reward and nothing was going to stop him this time.

-------------------------

At such a late afternoon hour the place was in no way busy, which suited Jack fine. He sat at a small table, back to the wall - old habits couldn't be erased that easily - and nursed his drink as if it were a long lost friend. He was on his fifth shot and well on the way to that hazy place in his memory which neither allowed dead friends nor longed-for-lovers to be present.

"Mind if I join you?"

At the gentle inquiry he didn't so much as raise his head, simply muttered, "No," and continued as if there hadn't been any interruption.

Kate smiled sweetly, not in the least offended by the abrupt rejection, simply taking the small table next to his and placing her order with the waitress who had accompanied her.

Jack decided he would do his usual and block out what he didn't wish to see or hear. He'd practiced it many times in briefings when the technical jargon and tedious content zoned him out.

"Just give me whatever it is he's drinking, please...oh, and I'll have the same amount, too."

Then again he couldn't actually admit that what he was hearing was all that dull.

"Are you sure, Mrs. Starr?" The waitress not only looked but sounded dubious at the order she'd just received. "Um...it's just that...well the gentleman is on his fifth--."

"Sixth," Jack interrupted sharply, conveying to the waitress by the look in his eye that he didn't expect to be kept waiting for his next order.

"That's fine by me, Carly." And looking at no one in particular, Kate gazed around her in fascination and said happily, "Well, this is an unexpected treat. I don't usually indulge in this sort of thing, but I happened to notice you coming in here when I was finishing off my shopping across the way and, well...here I am."

Gritting his teeth, holding on to something he wasn't quite sure what, only that if he let it go he knew he would dissolve into something too broken to contemplate, Jack grabbed at the drink - the proverbial straw to the drowning man - that had just been put in front of him, closed his eyes and tossed the contents of the glass down in one go.

"Oh, you're doing it that way! Okay, what the hell..." Her green eyes danced with devilment.

His own eyes dark with aggravation, Jack turned his head reluctantly to his neighbor's table.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" There was something decidedly dangerous in his stare.

Kate ignored the tone and the look, her smile beatific. "Being sociable."

Jack just managed to stop his eyes rolling. "I felt like having some time alone," he said pointedly, uncaring how ill-mannered he sounded.

"Ahhhh." She then proceeded to down another two shots in quick succession looking as if she were fully capable of mirroring Jack's drinking habits.

'Shit.' It was one thing to go off and get totally and unequivocally plastered, but he was under no illusions about how it would be taken by a certain ex-Air Force general/Tok'ra should Kate follow in his footsteps. And from the looks of her, as he cast a jaundiced eye in her direction, she was well on the way.

"Carly, another one dear."

"No!"

Jack wasn't sure who was the more surprised, the waitress or Kate, but she wasn't Jacob's woman for nothing and recovered surprisingly quickly.

"But I thought you had just ordered another," she stated innocently.

Glowering in his best kick-ass manner, he snapped, "I have, you haven't!"

"Yes, I have," she said unhurriedly as if speaking to someone who was having difficulty assimilating the information she was passing on. And turning to the waitress she repeated her own order as well as Jack's.

Carly, a young freckle-faced woman in her early twenties, was looking distinctly worried by now and seemed as if she might say something else when Jack shoved his chair back with a screech of the chair's legs.

"For crying out loud!" And throwing a pile of bills on both tables, he turned to Kate and ordered, "Let's go!"

"But I thought--."

"You thought wrong." And taking a firm grip on Kate's arm, he ushered her away.

--------------------------

The two of them were just alighting from the taxi that had transported them from the bar to Kate's front door, when Jack's own truck pulled up beside them with a screech of protesting brakes, the face of the driver looking thunderous.

Jack threw Kate an accusing glare, but she answered his silent reproach with a muttered, "Not guilty, Jack," and as she did look as uncomfortable as he felt, he was inclined to believe her. He'd only just paid off the driver and watched the cab depart when he sensed Jacob's presence directly behind him. He turned, a stubborn set to his dark eyes.

A rigid index finger was jabbed into his chest.

"You. Truck. Now!"

Surprise flashed in the younger man's eyes. This was pissed-off-master sergeant mode at its most effective. Gone was the gentlemanly general persona, yet still Jack wasn't about to allow himself to be intimidated.

"It's not what you--."

Jacob's glare skewered him into silence.

"If you want me to deal with you now, that's fine by me, Jack."

The words may have been spoken softly, but the menace behind them, even if Jacob hadn't spoken further, was unequivocal. "A word of advice though - I don't somehow think you'll be wanting any witnesses to our little talk."

'Oh shit!' Jack swallowed convulsively, his eyes widening at the implied threat and this time Kate, hearing the same silent message, attempted to come to his aid.

"Jacob Carter, I may have had a drink or two--."

"Or three or four or five!!" he growled not taking his accusing eyes off Jack.

Kate found she couldn't meet the cold reproach also shooting her way and dropped her gaze. "Yes, well..."

Throwing Jack a concerned look, she allowed Jacob to steer her to her door, waiting while he unlocked and opened it. Before following her inside, the older man glanced over his shoulder.

"Was there anything in my orders you didn't understand?"

Jack turned to his truck. He knew better than to get in the driver's side.

-------------------------

Dropping her handbag on the side table, Kate switched on the side lamp and turned to face the daunting figure of her lover.

"You're angry." It was a simple statement and almost had the desired effect, but Jacob wasn't willing to let it go that easily.

His sarcasm was drier than a wind off the Empty Quarter. "Now what would give you that idea, Kate?"

Pressing featherlike fingertips against her aching temples, Kate wasn't in the mood for this lower form of wit and complained, "Oh, Jacob, don't be so stuffy. And how could you be so mean to that poor man? Can't you see he's suffering?"

Incensed at the injustice of being made to feel guilty, the Tok'ra snapped menacingly, "Oh, he'll be suffering all right. The moment I--."

Gasping indignantly, Kate launched to Jack's defense, "Jake, you can't possibly treat him like a fifteen year-old who's been--."

Jacob eyes flashed satisfyingly, "Now that's where we do agree, Kate, because I have no intention of treating him as anything other than a ten-year-old brat who is going to get--."

Eyes rolling even in her discomfort, Kate paused in her own self-ministrations. "Calm down right this minute. If you think I'm going to let you harangue that poor man--."

"Poor man?" he huffed sarcastically, "Oh, don't worry, there'll be no haranguing - just plain old-fashioned--."

"Jacob Carter, bite your tongue this instant!"

And for once, the Tok'ra did pause, taken aback by her unexpected anger. And the injustice of it was she was angry with him! He rolled his eyes melodramatically.

"What is it with Jack O'Neill? He's now got you on his side, too." And seeing her confusion he explained, "Before I set off here, Sam was trying to plead his case."

"Sam's here?" She sounded pleasantly surprised.

He nodded, watching her carefully.

'Ah,' she thought. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place nicely.

A troubled expression crossed Jacob's features and he asked irritably, "Just what in blazes were you thinking of anyway? Can you tell me that?"

"How did you find out?"

Like her, he ignored the question and continued sternly, "Do you think it's perfectly normal for a highly respected member of this community to be seen having a drinking match with a total stranger?" And seeing the look in Kate's eyes, he admitted, "It was Carly if you must know. She was worried about you; she thought Jack was a bit of a dark character and --."

"She's been reading too many of those darned spy novels, for heaven's sakes. I wish--."

"Be grateful people care, Kate," he admonished her though his tone had gentled as he stepped closer and brushed a stray piece of hair out of her eyes.

Beginning to look a little sheepish, Kate nodded. "I know; you're right. It's just - he looked so lost and alone that my heart went out to him. I knew there'd be no chance he'd listen to reason - it was fairly obvious why he'd gone to McGinty's - so I thought, 'to hell with this - if I can't beat 'em, join 'em.'"

For an instant Jacob's eyes darkened voraciously. "Well you did the joining so I suppose it's my turn to do the beating!"

Eyes wide in dismay, Kate protested, "Jacob, you wouldn't!"

"Wouldn't I?" he growled, but seeing how upset she was looking, he dropped his act eliciting a shake of Kate's head.

"Shame on you, General Carter. You should know better."

Jacob groaned in frustration at the unfairness of it all. "You've no need to look at me like that - I won't lay a finger on him...But that doesn't mean to say I'm going to let him in on that that little secret, at least not right away."

Gasping, Kate retorted, "But that's psychological abuse!"

Eyes narrowing dangerously, Jacob demanded slowly, "And just what would you call Sam and me searching high and low, running around like headless chickens, checking the river just in case, and all because a certain pain-in-the-ass colonel decided he wanted a drink and went AWOL?"

"Oh dear." Kate sounded suitably contrite.

Slightly mollified, Jacob grimaced. "Not exactly my choice of words, but same meaning...How do you feel?"

"Please don't ask me that question until tomorrow - I already have a terrible headache."

"Serves you right." But the harshness of his words was erased when he enfolded her into his arms,

"Knew I could count on your sympathy, Jake."

He chuckled softly. "Just make sure you drink plenty of water. And it wouldn't hurt to down a couple of painkillers."

"I'll follow your orders, General."

Frowning, Jacob softly growled, "I somehow doubt I'll get that response from your partner in crime." He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Well, I'd best be making a move. There's still a short, sharp lesson to give and I--."

"Let him sleep the night, Jake - whatever you have to say will keep 'till the morning...Please?"

Her green eyes had softened so temptingly that he sighed longingly and lowered his lips on to hers. "You taste different." He leant in for more until a firm hand on his chest halted him.

"And what will Sam have to say if she finds Jack has spent the night in the truck?"

"Don't tempt me, woman!" Then groaning in frustration, he stepped away. "Damn the man. I could be toasting my feet in your bed and what am I doing? Using them to kick his butt." And seeing Kate's warning look, quickly continued, "Merely metaphorical, Kate, though the temptation to...okay, okay, I was joking. I'm going."

The stern admonition to 'be nice' had him shaking his head hopelessly.

"He's desperately unhappy."

He frowned and sighed. "I know."

---------------------------

The Empty Quarter - a vast desert in the Arabian peninsula, extending from central Saudi Arabia southwards to Yemen and Eastwards to the United Arab Emirates and Oman.

(Chpt. 6 to follow)


	6. Chapter 6

Warning: Language

To Hell and Back Chapter 6

Unwilling to reveal his change of heart just yet, Jacob stayed glacially silent throughout the return journey. The all too obvious lack of remorse on the part of his passenger had the Tok'ra rethinking the promise he'd made and the meting out of a hard lesson on obeying orders was almost too tempting to deny. He could almost feel himself salivating at the thought. However, the mental image of giving said punishment wavered dramatically when a picture of Kate's disappointed face interrupted his musings.

He could not, however, deny himself the satisfaction of continuing to treat O'Neill as a lowly airman and as he got out of his vehicle he barked, "We'll talk about this in the morning. Get to bed, now!" And seeing the slight hesitation, he growled, "Don't make me say it twice, mister."

Sam stood on the top step of the deck. "Sir, are you okay?"

She might as well not have existed for all the attention Jack gave her as he climbed the steps and went inside.

Watching the fleeting sadness wash over her features, Jacob sighed. "You may have noticed his little game of hooky didn't do much to improve his disposition."

She didn't think she was up to having a discussion about him just yet so opted for a change of subject. ''How's Kate?"

"Probably snoring like a hippo as we speak, and no doubt she'll be wallowing in misery tomorrow morning." He shook his head, again wondering at the way intelligent people could put themselves into such brainless situations.

"Look, if you want to head back to her place, I'll be okay here."

Tilting his head to the side, Jacob observed his daughter and smiled gently at her generosity. "Thanks, but I'll stay here; I've an early morning wake up call to do." And searching her features once more, he promised, "He is going to be okay, Sam."

"Is he?"

All the pain, confusion and heartache were poured out in her two words of doubt and as Jacob took her in his arms, just for a moment he cursed fate and he cursed Jack O'Neill in particular for being the man to whom his daughter was so desperately in love.

---------------------

Long before the sun rose, long before the nightmares cut in and long before his body had a chance to revolt against the memories, Jack was summoned from sleep by a curt command to get up and get dressed.

Frowning at the lack of natural light, Jack glanced at his watch, his eyes widening until his memory cut in and understanding made him stifle the groan of dissent he'd been about to make.

He dressed on auto-pilot wondering what retribution Jacob had devised, yet grateful that it didn't include trekking - no boots had been thrown at him.

Shivering in the chill of a morning yet to dawn, Jack trudged in Jacob's footsteps, frowning as his intuition told him where they were heading.

"Jacob?"

"Jack?"

"Care to explain why we're heading for the woodshed?"

Jack kept his voice purposely neutral, unwilling to reveal his hesitation though his defensive body language was not as easy to conceal. Smiling to himself, Jacob's lilting reply did nothing to improve Jack's concern.

"Don't tell me you've never found yourself being marched to the woodshed before, Jack."

Frowning as he stepped inside, Jack held his breath as Jacob took a deliberate step towards him and then suddenly, a lethal looking axe was thrust into his hands. It was almost welcome even when Jacob pointed to the huge pile of wood.

"Get to it, mister. I don't expect you to leave here until this lot has been turned into kindling. Do I make myself clear?"

Feeling the heat rising in his face, Jack was glad that the shadows concealed his relief and surprise. For one awful moment he'd actually thought...

-------------------------------

It was meant to be a welcome respite from his toils.

Having had plenty of experience of this particular form of punishment when growing up, she knew that being older made it no easier. He would, Sam was sure, be aching from the strenuous activity and in his weakened condition it would be taking more of a toll than normal.

Carrying the pitcher and glass, she hovered outside the shed for some time before giving an exaggerated cough and pushing open the door.

As her eyes grew accustomed to the diminished light she saw him glance over his shoulder, his T-shirt sodden with sweat, and almost in slow motion he stopped, dropped the axe at his feet and turned to face her. Wiping the sweat trickling down his temple, he then used the inside of his arm to mop up the rest on his face. As she watched him, he nodded stiffly and she released a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"I...I've brought you some fresh juice with ice, lots of ice. It can get hot doing this work - I know."

She was rambling; she knew it but couldn't help herself as she walked towards him holding out the glass. As he took it she began to pour, willing her hands not to tremble. When she'd finished she looked up, trapped by his scrutiny of her.

"H...how's it going?" Forcing herself to break away from his gaze, she nodded at the smaller pile of wood.

He grunted which, she decided, could have meant anything. He didn't bother to clarify it and she didn't bother to ask. She had other, more important things on her mind.

When he returned the glass to her she knew she'd been dismissed but he didn't move to retrieve the axe, simply continued to watch until her uneasiness made her turn, almost stumbling to be outside.

"Whatever it is you want to say, spit it out, Carter."

The words were spoken so softly that for a brief moment Sam felt she was talking to her old CO, the man who cared about his team, the man who would do anything to...

"-and then leave me the hell alone."

As she closed her eyes and bit the bottom of her lip, she tried hard to quell the rising dread she had kept in check.

"What did you expect me to do?"

Her disappointment was evident as her voice rose and she wrapped her arms around her body, mirroring Daniel when he was in full anxiety-mode. Her blue eyes were larger than ever, now watching his every move.

Directing a look of such accusation at her that her heart began to race more than ever, he threw back, "I didn't expect you to help put a snake inside me!"

He made no effort to hide his anger with her and it was almost as if he were too disgusted with what he saw and had to turn away.

Unable to accept this dismissal, she found herself reaching out, grabbing his arm, forcing him to turn back to meet her anguished features.

"You were dying! I had no other choice!"

"You had two choices!" he spat back. "Only two, damn it, and _**you**_ chose wrong."

The flatness of his stare, dull and brittle, drained the burning blood from her, and dropping her hand as if scorched, she stepped back, unable to accept what he had said.

"Did you expect me to sit back and do nothing?" She was stunned.

"I expected you to be a professional officer and accept the inevitable! I expected you to prevent me being taken over by a snake who was too shit-scared to face Ba'al and who left me to rot in a living hell! I expected you to allow me to die in dignity instead of having every ounce of self-respect stripped from me inch by miserable f-cking inch!"

The bitterness of his words spewed forth in a tidal wave, the force in him holding her still when she longed to simply turn tail and run. Dreading that he should see the betraying tears pricking at her eyelids, she set down the glass and pitcher and thrust her hands into jean pockets, her fists bunched so tightly that her nails punctured the flesh of her palms.

Shuddering with dismay, her mind tried to fight the injustice of his words, to come up with some form of defense, but despite her efforts, her voice remained silent. Only her anguished eyes spoke out as she directed a look of such unbearable sorrow at this injustice, yet it served only to increase his ire.

"What?" he snapped caustically. "Did you think I would be grateful? Did you think I'd be bending over backwards to show my everlasting appreciation of you dragging yet another god damned white rabbit out of the magician's hat?"

Where his gaze rested, her skin seemed to burn with such intensity she thought she would cry out in pain. But at least it was a focus for her, one that allowed her to block out the invective that Jack continued to churn out. Or so she thought.

When the sharp retaliation came, she was as shocked as the victim when her hand made hard, hurtful contact with his stubble covered jaw, the impact jerking his head back with the force.

In the vacuum that followed not a word was spoken, not a breath was taken as both stood eye to eye. And as her eyes blazed into his, she saw reflected a glittering hardness which crushed all feeling within her. Twisting away she felt the tenderness she had long felt for him wither within her. With a look of deep reproach she stiffened as she took a deep breath in hopes of quashing her impulse to flee; she felt beaten and defeated. Without a word more, she walked away.

As if her departure had taken all energy away, Jack found his legs no longer had the strength to support him and he stumbled outside, collapsing onto the wooden bench which faced the river. Slumping over, he dropped his head into his hands wishing that the last five minutes of his life could be erased from his memory.

----------------------------

Scrutinizing her features in the bathroom some time later, she nodded with approval at her artistic skills. The swollen eyes and blotchy skin had all but been concealed beneath her application of makeup, and though there was still a slight tinge of pink to the whites of her eyes, she knew her sunglasses would deal with that until the eye drops got to work.

They were both in the kitchen when she came down the stairs. Jacob had set Jack to chopping vegetables - a continuation of his punishment detail - while he was working to de-bone a chicken in preparation for the arrival of Kate.

Moving with quiet determination, she grabbed her bag and looking over her shoulder, mentioned casually, "Don't wait up for me, Dad. I probably won't be back for dinner."

He couldn't help it; he was still her father. "Going somewhere nice?"

She paused, trying to decide how to answer his too casual question but having made up her mind, her lips parted in a grin, showing her perfect white teeth. "Probably; I decided to take Matt up on his invite." And before Jacob could respond to that little titbit of information she had gone.

Eyebrows raised in obvious surprise, Jacob turned back to the chicken, but it could be seen that his mind was not on the job at hand and raising his head, he looked at Jack carefully, assessing the younger man.

"Well, that's one for the books. Matt Granger has been trying to get her to go out with him for the past year and a half, but she's always made some excuse or another. Hell, I was beginning to think Jonas had put her off men for good..."

---------------------------

"Want to talk about it?"

Sam looked up from contemplating her coffee and colored.

"Sorry Matt, I zoned out there for a moment." She smiled apologetically and trying to make up for her indiscretion, asked, "So how is Olivia taking to motherhood?"

It was so clearly obvious what the man's feelings were who sat opposite, he seemed to shine like a lighthouse, his brown eyes dancing with laughter as he went on to regale Sam of the delights of having a baby in his family. "I'm actually surprised I haven't zoned out on you. I'd heard all about the sweetness of a full night's sleep but for some stupid reason I was sure that it wouldn't affect me. Hah! Famous last words. If we get four hours straight it's a huge achievement."

But then the proud father smiled to show it wasn't a problem at all. "Olivia is half fascinated, half terrified all at the same time and yet...Luke's totally magical. We creep in when he's asleep in his crib and just stand there like two idiots, just watching him and wondering how such a miracle could come about."

And then realising how carried away he was sounding; Matt screwed his nose up and muttered," Now it's my turn to apologize. There's nothing more boring than new parents talking about their perfect babies."

"Don't be silly. These few hours have been just what I needed; grounding with a bit of sanity in a world that's not so nice at times."

Searching her eyes and deciding she looked as if she needed more company, he offered, "Look, why don't you come back with me and see Luke in person. He's a stunner with bald head and no teeth. You'll fall in love at first sight, I promise."

"Of that I have no doubt," said Sam smiling broadly as she stood up from the table in the cafe, "but I'd better be getting back. I don't get to see much of Dad now that the two of us are off travelling the globe so much. Tell Olivia hi from me and that I'll pop in next time, oh, and if she wants to change the present," and here she indicated the large wrapped gift on the next seat, "there's no problem."

"Are you okay, Sam?" Matt had paused to observe her, worried at what he saw, the strained appearance and shadowed eyes.

Plastering a huge smile on her face, she punched him on the shoulder playfully. "Are you insinuating that I don't look as gorgeous as you keep insisting, Matthew Granger?"

His smile reflected hers as he shook his head. "Life's tough out there, Sam. You ought to take a little time out. Slow down and have some fun."

Then reaching out, he pressed his lips to her pale cheek, gave her shoulders another comforting squeeze and watched her as she walked away.

-------------------------

(Chapter 7 to follow)


	7. Chapter 7

_Can I take this moment to thank all those loyal readers who continue to review. You make my beta, Nell, and I incredibly happy. I've also noticed a number of readers adding this story to their Story Alert Subscription. Don't be shy - let me know what you think - good or bad (just try not to fry me to a crisp)._

To Hell and Back Chapter 7

The windshield wipers swished rhythmically one way 'Take time out' and then the other '...have some fun.'

'Take time out...have some fun' _Swish_ 'Take time out...have some fun.' _Swish_

The taunting words kept time to the wipers and continued replaying in Sam's head like some dreadful ditty as she made the drive back to the cabin. Could the day get any worse? Shaking her fair hair aggressively, she pictured one particularly exasperating, aggravating, unpredictable senior officer with a fondness for confrontation at the most inopportune of moments and considered the possibility of having fun. Her nose crinkled at the idea. Being chased by Goa'uld, evading Jaffa warriors, and fighting off misogynists were more likely to be on her schedule of standard things to do than being taken for a meal, taken dancing or better still...taken to bed.

Ha! What a notion! Apophis's queen was more likely to form a women's Junior League Association than the likelihood of her ever being invited on a date by...

Something unexpected caught the corner of her vision and her head swung away from the dirt road, this last part of her journey to the cabin. She peered through the lashing rain and shadowed trees hoping to catch another glimpse of whatever it was that had attracted her attention in the first place. Who on earth was out in this storm was either lost or completely mad because no one in their right mind would be out in this stuff and...Her mind froze as she checked her rear-view mirror and carefully applied the brakes. Then half turning she reversed to the spot where she had last seen something that normally wasn't there. Opening the door of her car she wondered whether to get out and take a closer look, but as dusk fell, visibility was dropping with every minute and very soon all she would be was very, very wet. She needed some tangible evidence to make her go traipsing in this deluge. Shaking her head, she reached into her bag for her cell.

"Dad, is the Colonel with you?" She was pretty sure she already knew the answer, but needed confirmation.

She bit back a harsh comment about insane COs when she got a response then snapped warily, "Damn it, I think I just saw him...Did anything happen while I was gone?"

Her eyes narrowed for a second and then, "You said what?" she cried aghast, but then she closed her eyes as if in pain before stating dully, "Look, we can talk about this later. Right now we need to know where on earth he's going. It looked as if he might be heading for the east ridge of Juniper Pass. Is he familiar with that place? ...Oh, right, okay. Well, there's no point all of us getting soaked. I've got my boots and coat in the back. I'll drive as far as I can and hike the rest of the way. If Kate stays there you can check closer to the cabin, just in case I'm wrong and it wasn't him I saw."

As she snapped shut her cell, she shook her head. 'Fat chance!'

-----------------------------------------

By the time she'd turned around, driven as far as was feasible and then gotten into her coat, boots and hat, another fifteen minutes had past. She estimated that Jack must have already been out in the storm for a good half hour when she saw him, which meant that by now he was not only soaked to the skin but in these low temperatures very, very cold too.

She scowled at the utter stupidity of his action; just what the hell was he thinking going out in this weather? Just because Jacob had got up his nose was no excuse for this act of foolhardiness. Holy Hannah! If she took it upon herself to push off every time either her father or her CO annoyed the hell out of her, she'd have been reported as missing long, long ago. And Janet was going to have a fit when she found out what he'd done and that was if he didn't get sick.

Her expression grew bleaker and she shuddered - not only from the icy rain that was trickling uncomfortably down her neck. The CMO, she knew, would ensure that the consequences of such idiocy would be nothing short of spectacularly perilous should he require medical attention; it honestly didn't bear thinking about.

Her role hadn't changed, no matter what her CO thought. Her job was to watch his six whether he approved of her action or not and right now, she was not going to be deterred by his obstinacy.

She never gave any thought to the possibility that Jack might refuse to return with her, that he might tell her to go to hell; that he might not be found in this awful weather. She did not doubt that she would find him if he was out here, and pushing on, she ignored the wind that was driving the rain at an angle which was perfect for infiltrating every little gap in her clothes.

Scaling the last rise, she turned in a circle, raising her eyes, hardly recognizing this bleak place as the one she loved to come to when she needed to think, or simply get away from it all. It was her own little sanctuary, but not right now. The wind battered and buffeted the trees around and she felt oddly vulnerable as she peered into the darkness, hoping to find someone who probably had no wish to be found.

"Colonel!" She called his name into the wind, turned one hundred and eighty degrees and repeated her cry. Then she stilled, listening for any response over the sound of the rain and the wind.

Nothing.

She called again and again, until her voice began to crack with the effort and her throat to complain. Turning in a circle yet again, she examined the black undergrowth and trees and wondered if she would ever be able to feel the same way about this place as she had in the past.

Damn the man. If he had spoilt this place for her...

Her eyes narrowed as a shadowed shape seemed to take form. Stepping forward, she called out hesitantly, "Colonel?"

And then as the shape made a definite movement she called out more confidently and rushed forward to the base of the huge elm whose branches were doing a relatively good job of keeping the rain off, except that he was already wet through. Not that he seemed all that bothered by this she noted.

She watched him raise his head, instantly brushing a hand across his eyes.

Crouching down beside him, she hissed when she felt his hands.

"Colonel? We need to get back to the cabin."

"Go 'way, Carter."

Suppressing the urge to reach out and give him a good shake, she shook her head deliberately.

"Sorry, Sir, can't do that."

"Yes, you can. I'm ordering you."

She winced at the weariness in his voice.

"What are you doing here?" She now crouched in front of him, glad at last that the tree's overhang provided a modicum of shelter from the elements.

Meeting her eyes, he muttered, "Jacob told me this was one of your favorite places."

She snorted. "Not in the pouring rain."

"Never took you for the fair weather type, Carter."

Sam frowned, certain she was missing something in his words.

Carefully she answered, "Looks can be deceiving, Sir."

He smiled grimly. "How right you are; never a truer word said...Now, run along back to your friend and I'll enjoy the view a little more."

He turned away as if he could see through the driving rain to the valley below.

Reaching out to recapture his attention, her hand fell on his knee and she again gasped at the icy chill.

"You're frozen!" she stated. "I need to--."

Holding up a hand, dark eyes flashing a hint of temper, he interrupted, "You need reminding who the senior officer here is, Carter?"

"And do I need to remind you that what you're doing is going to put you straight back into the infirmary? And I can tell you this, no disrespect intended, that pneumonia will be the least of your problems when Janet gets hold of you - not to mention my Dad!"

Jack grimaced wryly. "Not the flavor of the month, huh?"

"You could say that."

"I didn't ask him to bring me here, you know."

Sam had the decency to look uncomfortable. "No, Sir. I did."

This time the brown eyes flashed with undisguised exasperation. "You overstepped the mark, Major!"

Stiffening, Sam shot back, "If I did, I'm sorry, Sir, and I'll accept the consequences, but that's not going to change the here and now. And the way I see it, _you_ now have two choices - to come back with me under your own steam or--."

"You'll be forced to call in reinforcements?" His tone was mockingly grim.

She faced the fire in his eyes. "I wouldn't recommend that one, Colonel. I'm thinking that a highly irate ex-general Tok'ra won't adopt a kid-glove approach when it comes to powers of persuasion."

Muttering something under his breath that she couldn't quite catch, he gave her a withering glare as she flipped open her cell and began to speak.

"I've found him...I'm not sure... Hang on and I'll check."

She paused in her conversation with her father and gave him a penetrating look "Dad wants to know if we can make it back without him." And seeming to read his silent message she continued into the phone. "We should be with you in a half hour, forty minutes tops." And then after listening to her father's voice, she answered carefully, "I'll let you tell him that in person. See you soon."

She'd known him long enough to see the battle warring within him - the desire to rebel; to exert his independence in any manner possible. She straightened and held out her hand to offer assistance, wondering if it would be accepted.

He stared long and hard then, with a derisory snort, he grabbed hold and allowed himself to be tugged up, silently thankful for the assistance after having spent so long on the cold ground. But it wasn't from any form of weakness that for a short, unstoppable moment they stood heartbeat to heartbeat, unmoving, caught in each other's intense gaze, a ripple of something unexplored passing between each other's intense gaze until, that is, Jack began to sway and Sam removed his hand from hers to place it supporting round his waist, offering him the help to stay upright.

Once away from the tree's overhanging branches, the rain and wind pummelled them mercilessly and Sam struggled with her load, glancing out of the corner of her eye to see a tight-lipped expression of endurance fixed on Jack's face.

"Nearly there, Sir," she encouraged breathlessly and could have cheered, if she'd had the energy, so intense was her relief when she settled him unresisting into the passenger's side of her vehicle. She hesitated to buckle him in, but when he made no move to do the necessary, she did it swiftly and then ran to the driver's side, again phoning Jacob before starting the car.

Pulling up in front of the cabin, she was relieved that her father was ready to open the passenger door, releasing Jack and easing him out of the seat even before she'd switched off the engine.

Unusually acquiescent, the younger man allowed himself to be supported by the Tok'ra up the steps and into the cabin. Hurrying to catch up, Sam took her CO's free arm over her shoulder so that he was now aided by both Carters.

Entering the bedroom Mark, her brother, had always used; Sam would have approached the bed but Kate's voice called from the bathroom.

"In here guys."

She appeared at the steaming bathroom door, waving them in and fixing Jack with an admonishing frown, accusing, "You could have caught your death of cold out there, Jack O'Neill!"

Too bone-tired to answer back, Jack allowed himself to be led to the stool which he sat on gratefully only to find Kate working on his shirt buttons while Jacob crouched down to deal with his boots. He swatted her hands away and fixed Jacob with a stubborn glare.

"Hey! It's kind of crowded in here and I think I know how to take a shower without further assistance," he snapped weakly but caustically.

Sam dropped her head, unwilling to meet his gaze while both Kate and Jacob observed him carefully. Slowly, Kate straightened.

"Okay, let's see you do the rest." She indicated the remainder of the buttons she had not undone.

It was a simple test, but Jack's fingers were still stiff and cold and they struggled to accomplish this basic requirement, though manage they did, eventually.

"Satisfied?" he demanded snarkily, hiding his relief. He was surprised at the reply.

"No, but I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, unless, of course, Sam thinks you shouldn't be left on your own."

Kate hid her amusement well at the alarm clearly visible in the man's brown eyes.

He tried hiding it behind an acidic front. "I promise to wash behind my ears, Carter."

Kate almost wished that Sam would call her smart-mouthed CO on this one, but the elder woman wasn't surprised when Sam stammered that she'd leave the decision to him.

Jacob continued, "Okay, you've got five minutes and then you've a one-way ticket to bed, mister."

There was yet again, understandably, no argument posed.

-----------------------------

He felt the hand brush over his hot forehead and groaned his disapproval.

Cracking open part of one eye, he was about to complain, but had second thoughts given the jaundiced look coming his way.

"Hi Dad, 'fraid punishment detail in the wood shed is going to have to wait a while longer; I'm not quite up to getting close and personal with that axe of yours just yet."

"No sweat." And realising the pun, Jacob grimaced wryly, then cocked his head and gave Jack an appraising stare. "I can always try a different tactic, Jack." And pleased to note the guarded look wash over Jack's dark eyes, he continued in a singsong tone that set the younger man's inner, warning system on full alert

"You know, Jack, I never once hit my kids when they were growing up - I managed to find more inventive means such as the wood chopping method. And, I admit, I used to pat myself on the back thinking I was some kind of paragon for not resorting to plain, old-fashioned spanking. But I can tell you this..." And now the Tok'ra's eyes had narrowed alarmingly, "play one more sophomoric stunt and I promise you - and believe me when I say it's not a threat, it's a bible-making promise - I will come down so hard on your sorry ass you won't know what's hit you."

Jacob observed the painful wash of color travel over the flushed features and knew he didn't need to ask his next question, but he did anyway.

"Do I make myself clear?"

A grunt was all he got, but it was enough to satisfy him. Mollified now, he pulled up the upholstered chair in the corner, bringing it close to Jack's bedside.

"It's not in your nature to forgive easily, is it Jack? In fact, I heard you never forgave Frank Cromwell for leaving you to fall into the hands of the Iraqis."

Stiffening at this unexpected invasion of his painful past, Jack's instinct was to lash out verbally, but before he could parry with a few choice invectives, Jacob thrust in, "You've never forgiven yourself for what happened to your son either." It wasn't a question.

Jerking forward, his eyes burning with intensity, Jack felt the restraining hand on his chest even as he struggled to attack Jacob's personal space.

His resistance proved ineffectual what with his weakness.

"Did Sarah never forgive you either?"

Inhaling sharply, Jack ground out, "You son of a --."

"Ah ah!" The admonishment was accompanied by Jacob's raised index finger.

"You're going to hear me out, Jack, and don't bother resorting to asinine invective - I've heard it all before."

Sam's father watched the inner struggle of the man lying in the bed and he repeated, "Well, did she?"

"Go to hell!"

As if he had never spoken, Jacob continued, "I heard that she did, but that you couldn't forgive yourself so that the result was a washed-up ending to what had been from all accounts a good marriage."

Stiff with indignation, Jack could only attempt to close himself off, to try and wall himself off from this one-sided dialogue.

"Sam seems to think you'll never forgive her for persuading you to take the symbiote. Is she right?" Only silence answered him. "Is it the end of SG-1, too?"

The shutters had come down but still Jacob refused to give up. He was on a mission and intended to see it through to the bitter end.

"Do you blame her for taking on the additional role once held by Daniel - becoming the conscience of SG-1? I heard she was seen as the heart of your little group and, having taken on that extra responsibility, you think she did the unthinkable in wanting you to live, eh?"

Jack stared ahead now, unmoving except for the pulse in his left temple which throbbed with a burning intensity.

Still Jacob persisted. "Have you lost faith in her judgement, Jack, because she had the guts to face you with something so abhorrent in your eyes that no one else was willing to put it to you?"

Jacob's eyes skewered the younger man, his anger shining clearly in eyes so like his daughter's. "I'll tell you this - if it had been me, I'd have just gone ahead and snaked you and worried about the consequences later."

As Jack jerked away, Jacob grabbed the weaker man's shoulder, giving it an insistent shake.

"When you went missing she was like one possessed. And I can tell you this for nothing, the Tok'ra might think you're one pain in the butt to deal with, but I'm thinking that after her dealings with them, she must be a close second."

Just for a moment he sounded to Jack like a proud father holding up his daughter for approbation, yet Jack retained his ice-cold demeanor much to the Tok'ra's chagrin.

"Tell me, would you have preferred that she didn't give a damn, that she sat on her backside and twiddled her thumbs while she watched you die?"

With no likelihood of a reply, Jacob turned to go, leaving Jack to his solitude, informing him merely that Kate was going to be his baby-sitter the following day.

Unable to resist the jibe, Jack spat out, "Can't take the heat, huh?"

Jacob stilled and turned back, a steel glint in his eyes so that Jack swallowed; realizing he'd overstepped the mark.

"I believe it's time you started thinking of getting off this self-pity train you're riding on, before someone does it for you."

And as Jacob continued to stare him down, Jack ducked his head, unwilling to face such confrontation and finally he heard the snort of irritation as Jacob left the room.

Even so bone weary, sleep was a long time in coming to the Air Force colonel. Images of pleading blue eyes refusing to give in assailed his thoughts while the feeling of a snake slithering relentlessly down his throat had him retching painfully.

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(Chapter 8 to follow)


	8. Chapter 8

To Hell and Back Chapter 8

As he passed through the swing doors and stepped into pale sunlight, he felt Kate's eyes on him assessing, trying to ascertain his mood. Turning his head, he met her gaze and smiled shyly, his appreciation evident.

She had been unexpectedly quiet sitting beside him as they'd watched the local school's two ice hockey teams doing a practice session. At his surprised query as to how they'd been allowed in to watch them, she'd simply stated, "I'm on the school board so a few perks come with the job." Then she'd left him alone, pleased that his attention to the practice wasn't feigned.

"You may not smile much, Jack O'Neill, but when you do, my but it's worth the wait! Come on," she encouraged, linking arms with him, pulling him in the direction of a park opposite the parking garage. "Let's walk; I know a bench in there where we can sit and drink my coffee and eat some ginger shortbread I baked this morning."

She'd felt the slight hesitation when he realized the bench was across from the children's jungle gym; his reluctance to stop there, but she'd pretended she'd never felt his unwillingness, engrossed in taking out the thermos and pouring two large mugs of the brew, and when he tasted it and blinked in pleasurable surprise, she'd chortled merrily, whispering melodramatically, "That's to keep the cold out."

And still seeing his puzzled look, she explained, "Don't worry, Jack. It falls well within the laws of this county; I'll be breaking no laws when I drive though I'm not saying the same when it comes to Jacob Carter's rules."

With the steaming drink poised at his lips, Jack gave her a thoughtful look, tipped his mug in salute and drank deeply. Kate wasted no time in following suit.

"These are good," he muttered, between mouthfuls of crunchy biscuit while Kate watched amused as he licked the crumbs off his fingers.

"You should thank Sam; it's her recipe."

It was as if a shadow had passed over the sun the way his features closed off sharply, the light dimming in his eyes, but Kate wasn't one to be so easily intimidated.

"Just look at those children," she enthused, "Don't you think their passion for life is inspiring? See there, that little fella with the red jacket, do you see him? The one reaching up for that rope - he can't be more than three - it's way too big for him, but that's not going to stop him from trying."

Turning suddenly, her brilliant green eyes bore into him as she stated softly, "And from the little I know of you, you don't strike me as being one to give up either."

Hunched over, Jack appeared to have found something of intense interest on the ground. He made no comment.

Proffering the thermos for a warm up, Jack shook his head.

As Kate began to put the mugs and thermos away in her small shoulder bag, she stole a brief glance at her companion.

"Some people would declare I'm a contrary sort of person - much like you, wouldn't you say?" She knew she'd caught his attention, but he remained stubbornly silent while his outer expression did justice to a Teal'c look of impassivity.

"When you get to my age you realize that what might have seemed vitally important isn't so darned essential anymore. Accept some advice given freely - get on with living. Don't waste time."

Still keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the ground, he muttered sullenly, "Are we done here?"

As a rare flash of irritation coursed through her, Kate resisted the urge to yank on his ear, instead making do with a pointed, "You know, Jack, I never took you for the type to take the easy way out. I somehow pictured you as the kick butt and to hell with the consequences type of guy. Am I so wrong?"

Turning to face her, his look jaded, Jack answered dryly, "I don't know; maybe you should talk to my CO or better yet, my mother!"

Choosing to ignore his 'Keep Away' signal, Kate pressed on, "So tell me about your mother?"

Sighing heavily, Jack rolled his eyes offensively. "Can we not talk about this?" It wasn't a polite request.

"She must have been one clever woman, walking a tightrope between admiring your spark and yet being the voice of reason."

The man beside her snorted but, at the same time, Kate noticed the pink color touching his neck and face and she smiled knowingly.

"So, what did she use to keep you on the straight and narrow - a nice, pliable slipper?"

Jack stood abruptly, making it clear that there was to be no further continuance of this discussion.

Hiding her amusement, Kate smiled good-naturedly. "Whenever you're ready."

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Sam was putting one of her duffel bags in the trunk of her car as Kate drew up and parked next to her, alighting from her vehicle.

"Going so soon?" Kate sounded saddened.

Smiling a little too forcibly, Sam pretended her CO wasn't within hearing distance.

"'Fraid so. Duty calls and all that." And continuing in a mock sotto voice continued, "Besides, I think I might cramp Dad's style if I stick around."

"And when did anyone or anything cramp Jacob Carter's style?" came the speedy retort.

They both grinned then Kate became more serious. "When do you go? Can you stay for dinner?"

Sam was already shaking her head. "I've got a few more hours, but I'll be on the road by five, so dinner's out. Sorry."

The two women linked arms companionably as they walked back into the cabin, leaving Jack on the deck, staring out at the racing river a few feet away.

His expression remained closed and unwelcoming and when Jacob appeared to tell him lunch was on the table, he mumbled that he wasn't hungry and brushed past the Tok'ra, into the house and up to his room.

--------------------------------

The knocking sounded insistent and rubbing her wet hair vigorously with a towel, Sam wondered how long it had been going on as she'd just jumped out of the shower. Thinking about it later, she still couldn't work out whether she had been totally naive or whether she'd been wishing for just this to happen. Either way, she opened the door a fraction and peered out, finding herself face to face with a startled-looking Jack O'Neill. In the back of her mind she wondered whether that look had anything to do with her lack of attire and received the answer to that when following his gaze, she realized that more of her body was exposed than she thought.

Seeing Carter's eyes narrow, his own gaze darted past her as if he dare not rest them any longer on her partially clad body then growing uncomfortable in the silence, he asked softly, "Can I come in?"

"Er...I'm not exactly dressed for--."

"I've seen you in less," he interrupted, and didn't look away when a burst of color washed over Sam's upper body above the towel.

Her lips thinned dangerously. PX3944. No one on the team had ever dared raise that particular subject with her before and her eyes darkened with indignation.

"What do you want?" Her tone was just short of being offensive.

"What do you think?" His manner matched hers equally.

Was this his none too subtle attempt at innuendo? Sam felt her hands tightening on her towel, regretting that she was clad in so little otherwise her hands, right now, could well have been inflicting some more serious damage on one smug bastard's face. She obviously hadn't hit him hard enough in the woodshed. But she was too upset and mentally exhausted to play any type of mind game. She had no strength for word play or pretense and there were no illusions to hang on to any more. She'd failed as far as she was concerned and it was proving a bitter pill to swallow.

"Look, Sir. If you've come to apologize..." But her voice trailed off on seeing his total and utter surprise at this suggestion. He obviously had no intention whatsoever of going that route and she mentally berated herself for again putting herself into a vulnerable situation with him. She looked away unable to meet his speculative brown eyes.

"So can I come in or what?"

As she stepped back, her eyes returned to his and she started when she saw where his gaze had been fixed. Again.

Pulling the towel higher over her cleavage, she glared coldly making no move to close her door and provide them with the privacy she knew he would have preferred.

"I just wanted you to know that I realize you were just doing your job and what I said before in the woodshed, well, I didn't mean it. I can understand what you did - I may not agree - but I --- I understand."

And for a heartbeat, Sam just stood there, a troubled frown marring her forehead as she felt her temper, already tweaked, begin to rise to volcanic proportions.

_'Doing your job...just doing your job_.' "Tell me, does it just come naturally - are you genetically programmed to be a complete pain in the ass or have you taken a masters degree?"

Then, with a slight shake of her head, her free hand gave Jack a firm and totally unexpected shove in his chest, propelling him back over the threshold of her door and before he could remonstrate with her or digest the venomous look she was throwing at him, the door had been slammed solidly in his incredulous face.

Staring at the closed door for a moment longer, Jack swore under his breath and turning, found Jacob watching him from the top of the stairs. The younger man shrugged, hiding his disquiet behind bluff sounding words, saying, "Well at least she didn't hit me this time."

"Wha-at?" That piece of news clearly astonished the Tok'ra. "She hit you? She hit you?" He was clearly stunned by this information. "Do you know how many times I've wanted to slap you silly and each and every time I've been criticized by either Kate or my daughter? And now you're telling me Sam's done it?" Jacob was clearly irked and having witnessed the whole door slamming in the face asked, "So, she wouldn't accept your apology, eh?"

"What apology, for crying out loud?"

"Oh, I don't know, Jack, maybe for being a genetically engineered pain in the ass."

The annoying smirk that accompanied the words had Jack glowering.

"I could go on if you'd like me to," offered Sam's father smugly, "but there again, I'm pretty sure Sam could give you a more prolific list. Though I have to say she sure as hell didn't hit you hard enough!"

--------------------------------

As she looked out over the valley she knew she'd done the right thing coming here. Last night hadn't changed it for her; it was still her spot to mull over her problems and to gain her equilibrium when the rest of the world seemed to be spiralling out of control. And realizing that, she breathed a weary sigh of relief; brushing away a recalcitrant tear that had dared to spill over her burning eyelids.

There'll be no damned tears she promised herself brutally. She'd cried an ocean of those already. Enough was enough. And as her fists bunched in the pockets of her jacket, she shuddered, hanging her head, wanting to escape the bitter memories that continued to play in her head like some manic merry-go-round.

She still had nightmares of the time Jack had fallen ill in Antarctica, on death's door until she'd pleaded with him to accept the symbiote. She would have begged on her bended knees if she'd had to. She couldn't have let him die, not if there was the slightest hope. And hope she had grasped in the form of the Tok'ra lifeline. She hadn't fooled herself into thinking he would excuse her conduct, knew full well he'd be mad as hell at what she'd forced him into doing. And force it had been. He had been shocked out of a coma to hear her plea and was just as likely to have understood nothing that she begged of him, but she'd got her nod and that was all she needed to go ahead with the blending. She grimaced at the all too painful memory. Yeah, she'd 'just been doing her job.'

She'd entrusted him into the Tok'ra's care never imagining that the symbiote saving his life would take advantage of the blending to save its own partner. But that was what had happened and her CO had been subjected to the most unimaginable torture until he'd been able to escape.

Screwing up her eyes she tried to blot out the picture of the clothes Janet had shown her once they'd been removed from her CO's body. The burning holes were testament to the acid that he had endured and the bloodied rents denoted the knife wounds inflicted over and over and over again.

Lifting anguished eyes to the heavens, she cried out, "Damn you Ba'al. Damn you to hell."

And like magma rising relentlessly, inexorably beneath the earth's surface, she felt the shuddering pressure of her violent emotions demanding release. Her grief was all encompassing and just as she had raged to the valley and the skies when her mother had died, so now too she protested this terrible loss that left her scarred within.

If she had been the screaming type she would have howled her despair, but rather she stood stiffly erect as tears poured from her eyes and she felt her very heart breaking.

It wasn't until later that she realized she'd fallen to her knees, her energy so depleted she had no strength to stand and the dampness of the earth seeped through the knees of her jeans but she was unaware of the discomfort just as she was oblivious of the man watching her from the shadows of the trees.

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Only one who has endured terrible grief can fully comprehend the anguish that Sam was experiencing as she raised her eyes to the heavens, unable to hold in the bitter rivulets of pain which flowed from her eyes and coursed down her face. And so, despite the fact that one part of him wanted to reach out to offer solace, still another, wiser part cautioned Jack. This was something that needed to be private. And this he would give her - for now.

------------------------

"Sam."

She stopped, not turning. Her whole body looked poised for flight.

She grimaced. Just once, just this once she would have liked to have made it back to the sanctuary of her room without having to face anyone. But at least it wasn't _**him**_.

"Dad."

He could sense something, especially when she didn't turn on the steps leading to the deck and face him; the contours of her body radiated emotion.

"You okay?"

He could see the effort needed to stand up taller as if that would cover her distress.

"Yes." Her voice sounded raw and she cleared it before saying, "Just a little low at the prospect of leaving. You know--."

"Ah, well then maybe I can make you feel better...George just phoned. Said to tell you there was no need to return."

"Wha-at?" She span round, her surprise all too evident, uncaring that her blotchy face, bloodshot eyes and muddied jeans were revealed.

"Why on earth would General Hammond telephone to extend my leave? It's unheard of." Then casting a baleful eye at her father, she demanded, "Did you have something to do with this because there is no way in hell a general is going to phone up a lowly major for such a reason."

"Don't look at me like that. I'm as surprised as you, but I wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. If I get to spend a couple more days with my daughter, who am I to question the reasons for it?" And now giving her a more appraising look, Jacob asked more gently, "Anyway, maybe George felt you needed some extra time. You have been working yourself into the ground for some time and ...are you okay kiddo?"

Realizing what a mess she must look, she smiled deprecatingly.

"Yea, Dad. I'm fine, or at least I will be. But you know, I think I'm gonna head off anyway. I've a few things that need doing and these extra days will give me the opportunity to get some stuff done that has been hanging over me, which I've never got round to. You know what I mean, all those boring things that catch up on you eventually. I need to--."

Knowing when Sam had made up her mind there was little that could change it, Jacob merely tried for the middle option.

"Well at least go tomorrow. That way you can get a good night's sleep and Kate's invited us to her place for dinner - she'll be happy to know you'll be joining us."

Brushing a hand nervously through her windswept hair, Sam explained uncertainly, "Look, will you count me out Dad?"

She'd sounded exactly the same, just turned fifteen wearing a new dress and high heels and asking to stay out late and expecting an argument. He'd surprised her back then and given his consent. She'd never known he'd had stern words with her boyfriend at the time promising hell on earth if anything untoward happened to his little girl. He didn't try and persuade her differently this time.

And giving him a grateful smile which didn't quite reach her eyes, she turned and continued into the cabin leaving Jacob watching her back, a worried expression clouding his face. Maybe it was time he gave a similar warning to another persistently aggravating man in her life.

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**WARNING - PLEASE NOTE**: On the advice of my brilliant beta, Nell, I am writing two versions for the chapter which is to follow.

- Chapter **9A** is '**T**' rated in accordance with the whole of this piece of fiction.

- However, I have also written a version (Chapter **9B**) which does give a slightly more detailed account of love scenes and which may be inappropriate for the younger reader and for those who prefer lower rated reading material.


	9. Chapter 9

WARNING_: Language. This chapter is 'T' rated in accordance with the whole story. If you prefer, there is an alternate chapter - 9B - with more explicit love scenes._

To Hell and Back Chapter 9A

She'd almost been tempted to make a phone call, but she wasn't quite au fait with the protocol of coming right out and asking the head of the SGC why a two-star general, with all the weight of the universe on his shoulders, should be concerned with granting one of his officers some extra leave, even if said head was her godfather. Was he worried about her work performance? Was he questioning her capabilities to carry out her duties like someone else not a million miles from here?

Snapping the top off the beer bottle, she ran the ice-cold glass slowly over her forehead as she stared out at the darkening sky from the top step of the deck where she'd wearily lowered herself. The stillness of the evening promised more rain to come and her tired eyes watched the scudding clouds shift across the grey sky concealing the pale crescent moon. The darkness still hovered. Waiting.

The sound of the river washing over boulders distracted her from observing the heavens and she stood slowly, walking to the edge, contemplating the swift flowing water, wishing she could somehow throw away her memories into the teeming rapids and allow her once more a freedom of thought. She was exhausted from wrestling with her ideas and simply wanted some form of release. The only option as she saw it was to get away from here, to get away from the one person who was able to turn her world upside down.

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He was almost beside her before she even noticed his presence and for a fleeting moment she wondered if it was down to her fatigue or whether he'd put his black ops talents to good use. Yet even as the thought flickered through her head she was stiffening at the unexpected intrusion. She had thought he had accompanied her father to Kate's. If she'd known...

Refusing to openly acknowledge him, even though every fiber of her being now seemed acutely attuned to his nearness, she schooled her features and wore a withdrawn expression. She would play him at his own game; after all, she prided herself on being a quick learner.

Turning, she gave a curt nod that would almost have been considered insulting by its briefness. She walked by or would have if his hand hadn't shot out and grabbed her arm. Nothing painful, but she couldn't continue on her way without making a fuss. She bristled at his audacity and then gasped when she heard his vehement command.

"Just cut all the crap, Carter. You're going nowhere until we've talked. And I mean _really_ talked!"

She tried pulling back; not wanting to be dramatic but enough to free herself. His grip merely tightened and now she looked up to see the dark, dangerous glitter in his eyes.

"Begging the Colonel's pardon, Sir, but I was under the impression that you didn't go in for--."

"Ahh, for crying out loud, cut the pissy act, Carter. You should know that's my forte. It really doesn't suit you... Jacob tells me that the general has extended your leave but that you're going tomorrow. Or should I amend that to running away?"

And then as a more repugnant idea came to mind, he gritted his teeth and drawled dryly, "Or maybe I've got it wrong and you just want to spend time with your long lost boyfriend, Granger."

Controlling the shiver that ran down her back, Sam raised her chin defiantly.

"With respect, Sir, that's bullshit!"

For a good five seconds he stood there with his jaw hanging down and for a further glorious few seconds Sam bathed in the aura of total O'Neill disbelief. But it didn't last for long and his eyes flashed fire as he raised himself to his six foot two inches.

"What did you just say?" he demanded slowly, lethally. His head was tilted as if he could view her all the better to annihilate her on the spot, or that's how it felt to her. But his mule headedness was driving her to distraction.

She pinned him with a forthright glare. "I think you heard, Colonel." Then running a hand through her short, blonde hair she demanded pointedly, "I'd like you to let go of me now if that isn't too much trouble."

She was pushing him and it was a very dangerous game to play, but as if gauging her mood and finding the situation hopeless, he released her arm.

Unfortunately, she'd grown tired of playing the patient, obliging 2IC and jerked her arm away at the exact moment she'd been released, thus the impetus of an unrestricted hold had her body swinging round sharply. The momentum of her movement carried her one step backward and as her right foot scrabbled for a firmer footing, a small rock shifted beneath her sole and she felt herself suddenly losing her balance.

Apprehension replaced irritation as she realized the danger she was in, but it was too late to do anything other than give a short startled cry and then she was dropping, her feet and legs enveloped by ice-cold water that dragged her deeper until her hips were being pulled in. She gasped with the shock of the freezing water, but the danger of the current was more to fear and just as she prepared to go right under, she felt a vice on her wrist refusing to allow the river its prey.

For a moment she hung suspended, the pain in her left wrist taking precedence over the numbing cold in her lower extremities and then the hold became two hands and she felt her body being hauled up inch by agonizing inch. And when, on firm ground, she dared to look directly into his eyes she recoiled from the terrible anger she saw there. Trembling more from the force of this emotion than from the biting cold of her sodden clothes, she backed away, dismay draining the little color from her cheeks. With her teeth chattering and her limbs shivering, she knew she looked a pathetic mess and shaking her head in tired resignation, she trudged past her CO, too weary to notice the pain replacing the anger in Jack's dark eyes.

'Great damage control there, O'Neill. Give yourself a f-cking pat on the head, why don't you?'

He shook his head viciously at his own clumsy handling of his 2IC. He knew better than anyone that she wasn't one to be coerced against her will, that she could stand up for herself against the most blatant of browbeating. And her tenacity was legendary in the corridors of the SGC. He should have anticipated all this, should have known she'd never give up on him, should have known she'd be willing to put up with all his crap if it would help him get back to what once had been.

The only problem was he didn't know whether that was enough.

His eyes followed her all the way into the house and when she'd disappeared inside he waited until he saw the bathroom light switch on. He rubbed a hand over his aching forehead as forbidden images of soaking jeans, shirt and underwear being peeled off a slim body played havoc with his senses and he cursed under his breath and forced his eyes and mind to safer subjects.

Kate had counselled him to stop wasting time and to get on with living. Had he allowed his emotions to dwell too long in a self-indulgent way on something which prevented him from facing what was an excruciating nerve-ending? He knew the answer to that all too well.

'Stop wasting time.' Oh, God, he was guilty, so screwed-up accountable for doing that. And wasn't he one of the first to haul anyone over the coals for that offense? But his culpability went so much further and the roiling in his gut was tantamount to a gale-force seven storm telling him in no uncertain terms that he was responsible for a dishonorable act - blaming Sam for doing something that came as naturally as breathing in oxygen.

Crap, but he had some major grovelling to do and with Kate's words still reverberating in his head he straightened his shoulders and moved to follow the only woman who meant anything in his life.

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Head bowed, eyes closed, she stood under the steaming shower, one hand against the tiles supporting her exhausted body. She had shut down her brain, refusing to even attempt to make any effort in unravelling the enigmatic puzzle that was her CO. All her energy had been channelled into removing her freezing clothes and dragging her aching body under the hot water. She had nothing else left; she was exhausted both mentally and physically and it was time she accepted the inevitable. She would have to return to Cheyenne Mountain and do the unthinkable - request a transfer. It couldn't be helped, her brain refused to co-operate in the shutdown process and she groaned in abject misery.

Turning off the shower, she reached through the smoked glass door for her bathrobe, wrapping it comfortingly round her body. All she wanted to do was crawl between the sheets of her bed and hopefully fall into a dreamless sleep.

Stepping out of the bathroom she froze, closing her eyes for a second in the hope that what she was seeing was some kind of apparition. He was still there in her bedroom when she reopened them.

'I can't do this,' she protested silently, and the message was obviously received because Jack raised a hand, palm up.

"Just hear me out, Carter. Please."

He grimaced on seeing the look, fleeting though it was, pass over his 2IC's face. Yes, he deserved that. He'd taken any and every opportunity to insult her, had questioned her integrity as an officer and still she'd come back for more. But not this time. He could see it in her body language; she'd had enough and was not about to provide her CO with a further opening in which to castigate her.

"And when I say no, what then? Are you going to grab me again?"

He'd earned it many times over, he knew, but it still hurt. Swallowing down the bitter bile of self-dislike rising to the back of his throat, which had caused this reaction in Sam, he hung his head in remorse.

"Carter, I'm sorry, I--."

"No, it's me that's sorry. I'm sorry I got you to take the symbiote. I'm sorry you were hijacked by your Tok'ra partner. I'm sorry you fell into the hands of Ba'al. I'm sorry you were tortured. I'm sorry you've suffered so much and I'm especially sorry I asked Dad to bring you here. I'm up to here being sorry!" Her hand sliced up to her neck and fell away at the same time as she turned away from him. "I'm really tired now so if you'll..."

Her hand wavered as it indicated the door to leave.

Screwing shut his eyes, Jack ground the heel of his palm into his forehead as his temples began to throb. He mumbled something inaudible and her head shot up, but he deliberately avoided her eyes seeming to flinch visibly as his own gaze darted away from hers.

"What did you say?" she asked staring at him in confusion.

"I said stop wasting time, Carter."

He still refused to meet her gaze. "If this Matt guy is as good as Jacob says, then stop screwing around...I mean..." His voice trailed away and this time he did look at her, the unhappiness in his eyes for once clearly revealed competing with the embarrassment he was now feeling at his clumsy choice of words. Once again his eyes dropped to the floor. "You know what I mean."

He started to turn away. He'd said what needed saying.

She was tired, still chilled and probably suffering from shock so the fact that the man she had loved almost since the day she'd met him was now trying to push her into the arms of a happily married man didn't sit too well with her and what little patience she had was now wafer thin as resentment flared within her.

"You know what? You and Dad suit each other just fine. Give him hell why don't you, and if he feeds you a load of crap, then feel free to digest it, regurgitate it and throw it back up, but don't you dare," and now she walked towards him, eyes menacingly narrowed, "throw it back at me. I want nothing to do with it."

Almost nose to nose, her blue eyes shot arrows of disgust at him. "Matt Granger and I are friends, good friends," she emphasized this point knowing that it could be taken any way Jack chose. She paused hoping he was feeling as uncomfortable as he looked.

"His wife, Olivia, is also a good friend and I hope one day that their newborn son, Luke, will come to know me as well as them - unlike some who seem to have their heads up their asses!"

She was furious, it revealed itself in her choice of language and it resonated throughout her body and not even the blank incomprehension which was slowly being replaced by prickly understanding on her CO's face could halt the flow of her fury. She was beyond caring.

"You are the most exasperating, aggravating man I have ever had the dubious pleasure of knowing."

Feeling her heart hammering like a trapped wild beast, she shot him a look so bitter in its condemnation that Jack could only stare back aghast.

"Carter, I...I..."

He was, for once, lost for words and as her anger slowly abated, Sam realized that the only other time she had seen him look this vulnerable was when he had been in the infirmary sleeping. Her breath caught in her mouth, and eyes that had only moments ago burned with antagonism now seemed to melt and she swallowed convulsively as another, stronger emotion raced through her body. His helplessness accomplished where all else might have proved futile and yet he failed to see the remarkable change in her body language; had started to turn; to walk out of her room.

Before her courage dare desert her, she reached for his shoulder, turning him back so they were again facing each other, mere inches apart. She stared up at his eyes which were dark with something that sent a shiver rippling down her spine, yet still he remained unmoving as if carved from stone.

Realizing she'd brought this upon herself, a tantalizing glint entered her eyes as she stepped away at the same time tugging on the tie holding her gown together over her naked body.

And finally she saw the leap of light in his eyes, the spark of desire that now could not be denied.

"Carter?" It was a low, tight growl of warning, telling her that there was little control remaining and that if this was a game or a form of punishment it had better end now before...

The look she gave him was almost defiant as she again stepped into his personal space with a suddenness that took him by surprise, reached up and pulled his face down so that her lips brushed against his. And as he tried to assimilate what was truly happening, her body pressed provocatively against his and he was lost in a kaleidoscope of sensations, each one more delicious than the previous one. But there was only so much she could do without requiring some form of tacit agreement; after all it required two to...

If he wanted her to stop wasting time, she thought smugly, then so be it.

Determinedly her hands dropped to the buckle at his waist...he didn't stop her.

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He'd always known there was a smoldering fire beneath the veneer of the cool, controlled Major Sam Carter, but never had he imagined she would turn to combustion in his arms. And only later, after she'd climaxed, screaming his name to the heavens, did he thank the guardian angel of all insubordinate colonels for ensuring that one Jacob Carter, ex-general, Tok'ra and more importantly father of said naked woman lying in his arms, was nowhere to be seen in a one-mile radius of the cabin, otherwise...it didn't bear thinking about.

He watched her as she slept, one long, smooth leg thrown over his own as if confirming her possession of him even as she slumbered, her head nestled in the crook of his neck. She murmured something unintelligible and for an instant her body stiffened until he whispered her name, running a gentle hand over her back.

A wry smile touched his mouth as he compared her stillness now to the previous hours when she had quite literally dragged him to her bed. Not that he'd needed any persuasion, but she had dominated the proceedings in a way that he'd found both erotic and mind-blowing in its excitement.

Not content to be the passive partner in their coupling she had dominated the proceedings and now, sated, they lay bodies entwined and Jack O'Neill dared hardly believe that it was Sam Carter in his arms, the woman who had occupied his thoughts on many a sleepless night.

And he had to admit with a wry grin that his imagination in no way could be compared to the real thing and as his eyes followed the contours of her slim hip and up her narrow ribcage, he felt his body respond yet again and even while a little surprised at his own physical prowess he did not question it, because here and now was all that mattered. But even he couldn't kid a kidder; he couldn't kid himself. Major Samantha Carter was still very much his 2IC and when he had to pay the piper at a later date then so be it. He dipped his head.

A soft groan of delight escaped her parted lips and his dark eyes warmed with deep pleasure. Her blue eyes opened wide staring deeply into eyes that held her so completely.

----------------------------

She moaned softly; the ache of intense lovemaking was far from an everyday occurrence for her and Sam shifted in her bed trying to find a position that didn't remind her of... Her eyes flew open in alarm as she wrenched her head round and came face to face with her very own, very naked CO.

Her dream, her intensely sensual dream was no dream. And as her whirling brain attempted to digest what it was being told through the power of her eyes, she screwed them tightly shut in the feeble hope that when she reopened them a tall, silver-haired Colonel presently laid flat out in all his birthday glory would have somehow disappeared.

It wasn't to be. It was true...they had broken the regulations! But, it was more than that.

Stifling a whimper, she slowly began to edge herself from the bed, desperate to remove herself from the incriminating position that she found herself glaringly in. And as her memory suddenly recalled how she'd got herself into this position, her moan intensified until she was forced to stuff part of the bed sheet into her mouth for fear the sound would waken her lover.

Lover?

Her mind struggled with the idea. It couldn't be; it simply couldn't be. After all these years of denial, how was it when he was being at his most obnoxious and insufferable, her defenses had crumbled?

It made no sense. There was no logic to it and her scientific mind recoiled from the utter chaos of her actions. How could she equate her total abandonment of a few hours earlier with how she was feeling now?

How was she... feeling...now?

It didn't make any sense until her eyes fell on a certain complex man slumbering so peacefully next to her and she felt her heartbeat increase. And even now, feeling like something that had been dragged through a hedge backwards, she acknowledged the jolting connection she had with this man.

He was part of her...

... in a way no other man had ever been or ever would be and if she hadn't known that before this night, the intensity of their recent lovemaking would have clued her in.

He had touched her soul and she knew she would never be the same.

Shaking her head, she gave herself a sharp mental kick to stop her inner wittering and in the words of a not-too-distant Colonel ordered her body to, 'get the hell out of there!'

Inch by inch she slid from her bed, eyes riveted to Jack's relaxed body in case he should stir, knowing she had only one course of action remaining.

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(Chapt. 10 - conclusion - to follow)


	10. Chapter 10

WARNING_: This chapter contains some romantic scenes more appropriate for older readers. Please go to Chapter 9A for the 'T' rated version._

To Hell and Back Chapter 9B

She'd almost been tempted to make a phone call, but she wasn't quite au fait with the protocol of coming right out and asking the head of the SGC why a two-star general, with all the weight of the universe on his shoulders, should be concerned with granting one of his officers some extra leave, even if said head was her godfather. Was he worried about her work performance? Was he questioning her capabilities to carry out her duties like someone else not a million miles from here?

Snapping the top off the beer bottle, she ran the ice-cold glass slowly over her forehead as she stared out at the darkening sky from the top step of the deck where she'd wearily lowered herself. The stillness of the evening promised more rain to come and her tired eyes watched the scudding clouds shift across the grey sky concealing the pale crescent moon. The darkness still hovered. Waiting.

The sound of the river washing over boulders distracted her from observing the heavens and she stood slowly, walking to the edge, contemplating the swift flowing water, wishing she could somehow throw away her memories into the teeming rapids and allow her once more a freedom of thought. She was exhausted from wrestling with her ideas and simply wanted some form of release. The only option as she saw it was to get away from here, to get away from the one person who was able to turn her world upside down.

--------------------------

He was almost beside her before she even noticed his presence and for a fleeting moment she wondered if it was down to her fatigue or whether he'd put his black ops talents to good use. Yet even as the thought flickered through her head she was stiffening at the unexpected intrusion. She had thought he had accompanied her father to Kate's. If she'd known...

Refusing to openly acknowledge him, even though every fiber of her being now seemed acutely attuned to his nearness, she schooled her features and wore a withdrawn expression. She would play him at his own game; after all, she prided herself on being a quick learner.

Turning, she gave a curt nod that would almost have been considered insulting by its briefness. She walked by or would have if his hand hadn't shot out and grabbed her arm. Nothing painful, but she couldn't continue on her way without making a fuss. She bristled at his audacity and then gasped when she heard his vehement command.

"Just cut all the crap, Carter. You're going nowhere until we've talked. And I mean _really_ talked!"

She tried pulling back; not wanting to be dramatic but enough to free herself. His grip merely tightened and now she looked up to see the dark, dangerous glitter in his eyes.

"Begging the Colonel's pardon, Sir, but I was under the impression that you didn't go in for--."

"Ahh, for crying out loud, cut the pissy act, Carter. You should know that's my forte. It really doesn't suit you... Jacob tells me that the general has extended your leave but that you're going tomorrow. Or should I amend that to running away?"

And then as a more repugnant idea came to mind, he gritted his teeth and drawled dryly, "Or maybe I've got it wrong and you just want to spend time with your long lost boyfriend, Granger."

Controlling the shiver that ran down her back, Sam raised her chin defiantly.

"With respect, Sir, that's bullshit!"

For a good five seconds he stood there with his jaw hanging down and for a further glorious few seconds Sam bathed in the aura of total O'Neill disbelief. But it didn't last for long and his eyes flashed fire as he raised himself to his six foot two inches.

"What did you just say?" he demanded slowly, lethally. His head was tilted as if he could view her all the better to annihilate her on the spot, or that's how it felt to her. But his mule headedness was driving her to distraction.

She pinned him with a forthright glare. "I think you heard, Colonel." Then running a hand through her short, blonde hair she demanded pointedly, "I'd like you to let go of me now if that isn't too much trouble."

She was pushing him and it was a very dangerous game to play, but as if gauging her mood and finding the situation hopeless, he released her arm.

Unfortunately, she'd grown tired of playing the patient, obliging 2IC and jerked her arm away at the exact moment she'd been released, thus the impetus of an unrestricted hold had her body swinging round sharply. The momentum of her movement carried her one step backward and as her right foot scrabbled for a firmer footing, a small rock shifted beneath her sole and she felt herself suddenly losing her balance.

Apprehension replaced irritation as she realized the danger she was in, but it was too late to do anything other than give a short startled cry and then she was dropping, her feet and legs enveloped by ice-cold water that dragged her deeper until her hips were being pulled in. She gasped with the shock of the freezing water, but the danger of the current was more to fear and just as she prepared to go right under, she felt a vice on her wrist refusing to allow the river its prey.

For a moment she hung suspended, the pain in her left wrist taking precedence over the numbing cold in her lower extremities and then the hold became two hands and she felt her body being hauled up inch by agonizing inch. And when, on firm ground, she dared to look directly into his eyes she recoiled from the terrible anger she saw there. Trembling more from the force of this emotion than from the biting cold of her sodden clothes, she backed away, dismay draining the little color from her cheeks.With her teeth chattering and her limbs shivering, she knew she looked a pathetic mess and shaking her head in tired resignation, she trudged past her CO, too weary to notice the pain replacing the anger in Jack's dark eyes.

'Great damage control there, O'Neill. Give yourself a f-cking pat on the head, why don't you?'

He shook his head viciously at his own clumsy handling of his 2IC. He knew better than anyone that she wasn't one to be coerced against her will, that she could stand up for herself against the most blatant of browbeating. And her tenacity was legendary in the corridors of the SGC. He should have anticipated all this, should have known she'd never give up on him, should have known she'd be willing to put up with all his crap if it would help him get back to what once had been.

The only problem was he didn't know whether that was enough.

His eyes followed her all the way into the house and when she'd disappeared inside he waited until he saw the bathroom light switch on. He rubbed a hand over his aching forehead as forbidden images of soaking jeans, shirt and underwear being peeled off a slim body played havoc with his senses and he cursed under his breath and forced his eyes and mind to safer subjects.

Kate had counselled him to stop wasting time and to get on with living. Had he allowed his emotions to dwell too long in a self-indulgent way on something which prevented him from facing what was an excruciating nerve-ending? He knew the answer to that all too well.

'Stop wasting time.' Oh, God, he was guilty, so screwed-up accountable for doing that. And wasn't he one of the first to haul anyone over the coals for that offense? But his culpability went so much further and the roiling in his gut was tantamount to a gale-force seven storm telling him in no uncertain terms that he was responsible for a dishonorable act - blaming Sam for doing something that came as naturally as breathing in oxygen.

Crap, but he had some major grovelling to do and with Kate's words still reverberating in his head he straightened his shoulders and moved to follow the only woman who meant anything in his life.

------------------------------

Head bowed, eyes closed, she stood under the steaming shower, one hand against the tiles supporting her exhausted body. She had shut down her brain, refusing to even attempt to make any effort in unravelling the enigmatic puzzle that was her CO. All her energy had been channelled into removing her freezing clothes and dragging her aching body under the hot water. She had nothing else left; she was exhausted both mentally and physically and it was time she accepted the inevitable. She would have to return to Cheyenne Mountain and do the unthinkable - request a transfer. It couldn't be helped, her brain refused to co-operate in the shutdown process and she groaned in abject misery.

Turning off the shower, she reached through the smoked glass door for her bathrobe, wrapping it comfortingly round her body. All she wanted to do was crawl between the sheets of her bed and hopefully fall into a dreamless sleep.

Stepping out of the bathroom she froze, closing her eyes for a second in the hope that what she was seeing was some kind of apparition. He was still there in her bedroom when she reopened them.

'I can't do this,' she protested silently, and the message was obviously received because Jack raised a hand, palm up.

"Just hear me out, Carter. Please."

He grimaced on seeing the look, fleeting though it was, pass over his 2IC's face. Yes, he deserved that. He'd taken any and every opportunity to insult her, had questioned her integrity as an officer and still she'd come back for more. But not this time. He could see it in her body language; she'd had enough and was not about to provide her CO with a further opening in which to castigate her.

"And when I say no, what then? Are you going to grab me again?"

He'd earned it many times over, he knew, but it still hurt. Swallowing down the bitter bile of self-dislike rising to the back of his throat, which had caused this reaction in Sam, he hung his head in remorse.

"Carter, I'm sorry, I--."

"No, it's me that's sorry. I'm sorry I got you to take the symbiote. I'm sorry you were hijacked by your Tok'ra partner. I'm sorry you fell into the hands of Ba'al. I'm sorry you were tortured. I'm sorry you've suffered so much and I'm especially sorry I asked Dad to bring you here. I'm up to here being sorry!" Her hand sliced up to her neck and fell away at the same time as she turned away from him. "I'm really tired now so if you'll..."

Her hand wavered as it indicated the door to leave.

Screwing shut his eyes, Jack ground the heel of his palm into his forehead as his temples began to throb. He mumbled something inaudible and her head shot up, but he deliberately avoided her eyes seeming to flinch visibly as his own gaze darted away from hers.

"What did you say?" she asked staring at him in confusion.

"I said stop wasting time, Carter."

He still refused to meet her gaze. "If this Matt guy is as good as Jacob says, then stop screwing around...I mean..." His voice trailed away and this time he did look at her, the unhappiness in his eyes for once clearly revealed competing with the embarrassment he was now feeling at his clumsy choice of words. Once again his eyes dropped to the floor. "You know what I mean."

He started to turn away. He'd said what needed saying.

She was tired, still chilled and probably suffering from shock so the fact that the man she had loved almost since the day she'd met him was now trying to push her into the arms of a happily married man didn't sit too well with her and what little patience she had was now wafer thin as resentment flared within her.

"You know what? You and Dad suit each other just fine. Give him hell why don't you, and if he feeds you a load of crap, then feel free to digest it, regurgitate it and throw it back up. But don't you dare," and now she walked towards him, eyes menacingly narrowed, "throw it back at me. I want nothing to do with it."

Almost nose to nose, her blue eyes shot arrows of disgust at him. "Matt Granger and I are friends, good friends," she emphasized this point knowing that it could be taken any way Jack chose. She paused hoping he was feeling as uncomfortable as he looked.

"His wife, Olivia, is also a good friend and I hope one day that their newborn son, Luke, will come to know me as well as them - unlike some who seem to have their heads up their asses!"

She was furious, it revealed itself in her choice of language and it resonated throughout her body and not even the blank incomprehension which was slowly being replaced by prickly understanding on her CO's face could halt the flow of her fury. She was beyond caring.

"You are the most exasperating, aggravating man I have ever had the dubious pleasure of knowing."

Feeling her heart hammering like a trapped wild beast, she shot him a look so bitter in its condemnation that Jack could only stare back aghast.

"Carter, I...I..."

He was, for once, lost for words and as her anger slowly abated, Sam realized that the only other time she had seen him look this vulnerable was when he had been in the infirmary sleeping. Her breath caught in her mouth, and eyes that had only moments ago burned with antagonism now seemed to melt and she swallowed convulsively as another, stronger emotion raced through her body. His helplessness accomplished where all else might have proved futile and yet he failed to see the remarkable change in her body language; had started to turn; to walk out of her room.

Before her courage dare desert her, she reached for his shoulder, turning him back so they were again facing each other, mere inches apart. She stared up at his eyes which were dark with something that sent a shiver rippling down her spine, yet still he remained unmoving as if carved from stone.

Realizing she'd brought this upon herself, a tantalizing glint entered her eyes as she stepped away, at the same time tugging on the tie holding her gown together over her naked body.

And finally she saw the leap of light in his eyes, the spark of desire that now could not be denied.

"Carter?" It was a low, tight growl of warning, telling her that there was little control remaining and that if this was a game or a form of punishment it had better end now before...

The look she gave him was almost defiant as she again stepped into his personal space with a suddenness that took him by surprise, reached up and pulled his face down so that her lips brushed against his. And as he tried to assimilate what was truly happening, her body pressed provocatively against his and he was lost in a kaleidoscope of sensations, each one more delicious than the previous one. But there was only so much she could do without requiring some form of tacit agreement; after all it required two to...

If he wanted her to stop wasting time, she thought smugly, then so be it.

Determinedly her hands dropped to the buckle at his waist...he didn't stop her.

------------------------------------

He'd always known there was a smoldering fire beneath the veneer of the cool, controlled Major Sam Carter, but never had he imagined she would turn to combustion in his arms. And only later, after she'd climaxed, screaming his name to the heavens, did he thank the guardian angel of all insubordinate colonels for ensuring that one Jacob Carter, ex-general, Tok'ra and more importantly father of said naked woman lying in his arms, was nowhere to be seen in a one-mile radius of the cabin, otherwise...it didn't bear thinking about.

He watched her as she slept, one long, smooth leg thrown over his own as if confirming her possession of him even as she slumbered, her head nestled in the crook of his neck. She murmured something unintelligible and for an instant her body stiffened until he whispered her name, running a gentle hand over her back.

A wry smile touched his mouth as he compared her stillness now to the previous hours when she had quite literally dragged him to her bed. Not that he'd needed any persuasion, but she had dominated the proceedings in a way that he'd found both erotic and mind-blowing in its excitement. Not content to be the passive partner in their pairing she had stroked and suckled and nipped, orchestrating their duel movements to perfection, ensuring that a repeat performance of their sexual dexterity followed quickly on from their initial frenetic joining. And now, sated, they lay bodies entwined and Jack O'Neill dared hardly believe that it was Sam Carter in his arms, the woman who had occupied his thoughts on many a sleepless night.

And he had to admit with a wry grin that his imagination in no way could be compared to the real thing and as his eyes followed the contours of her slim hip, up her narrow ribcage to the curve of one full and succulent breast, he felt his body respond yet again and even while a little surprised at his own physical prowess he did not question it, because here and now was all that mattered. But even he couldn't kid a kidder; he couldn't kid himself. Major Sam Carter was still very much his 2IC and when he had to pay the piper at a later date then so be it. He dipped his head.

A soft groan of unadulterated delight escaped her parted lips at his ministrations and his dark eyes warmed with deep pleasure even as his lips and tongue tantalized one firm, erect nipple. Her blue eyes opened taking in the lowered silver-haired head that was paying so much attention to a highly sensitive part of her breast; Sam's arousal was racing towards the breaking point.

"You're a bad, bad man," she grinned wickedly in whispered longing, squirming as a ripple of lust flowed tsunami-like through her, building in intensity until she could no longer contain its power, and she arched demanding hips to meet Jack's needs in equally powerful intensity.

----------------------------

She moaned softly; the ache of intense lovemaking was far from an everyday occurrence for her and Sam shifted in her bed trying to find a position that didn't remind her of... Her eyes flew open in alarm as she wrenched her head round and came face to face with her very own, very naked CO.

Her dream, her erotic, sensual dream was no dream. And as her whirling brain attempted to digest what it was being told through the power of her eyes, she screwed them tightly shut in the feeble hope that when she reopened them a tall, silver-haired Colonel presently laid flat out in all his birthday glory would have somehow disappeared.

It wasn't to be. It was true...they had broken the regulations! But, it was more than that.

Stifling a whimper of misery, she slowly began to edge herself from the bed, desperate to remove herself from the incriminating position that she found herself glaringly in. And as her memory suddenly recalled how she'd got herself into this position, her moan intensified until she was forced to stuff part of the bed sheet into her mouth for fear the sound would waken her lover.

Lover?

Her mind struggled with the idea. It couldn't be; it simply couldn't be. After all these years of denial, how was it when he was being at his most obnoxious and insufferable, her defenses had crumbled?

It made no sense. There was no logic to it and her scientific mind recoiled from the utter chaos of her actions. How could she equate her total abandonment of a few hours earlier with how she was feeling now?

How was she... feeling...now?

It didn't make any sense until her eyes fell on a certain complex man slumbering so peacefully next to her and she felt her heartbeat increase. And even now, feeling like something that had been dragged through a hedge backwards, she acknowledged the jolting connection she had with this man.

He was part of her...

... in a way no other man had ever been or ever would be and if she hadn't known that before this night, the intensity of their recent lovemaking would have clued her in.

He had touched her soul and she knew she would never be the same.

Shaking her head, she gave herself a sharp mental kick to stop her inner wittering and in the words of a not-too-distant Colonel ordered her body to, 'get the hell out of there!'

Inch by inch she slid from her bed, eyes riveted to Jack's relaxed body in case he should stir, knowing she had only one course of action remaining.

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(Chapt. 10 - conclusion - to follow)


	11. Chapter 11

17

Warning: Language

_I started this story, dedicating it to my beta, Nell, and that still applies. In her own words 'we make a great team', but truly this story wouldn't have been what it is without all her incredibly hard work. _

_And a special thank you to all those loyal reviewers who kept feeding me with their enthusiasm and inspiring me to go that little bit further._

To Hell and Back Chapter 10

As she swung the vehicle round, switching on the headlights, she actually cried out as the half-naked figure landed in front of the car forcing her to slam on her brakes for fear of hitting him. In the glare of the headlights he appeared half demonic and the crashing descent of his two hands on the hood resounded in the confines of the vehicle making her wince.

In the back of her mind she admitted to stunned surprise realizing he must have launched himself from the deck - his left leg was still suffering from his previous injury so the manoeuvre he had just carried out was nothing short of spectacular. But she didn't have time to dwell on her CO's superman tactics.

She didn't cut the engine, just stared at him, her eyes half hooded to hide what was in them. She knew he must be nearly frozen in the chill early morning hour wearing only a pair of jeans, bare foot and bare-chested, but she refused to meet his eye.

He didn't move. Neither did she.

"Carter?" She had no problem reading his lips, but lowered the passenger window a fraction in order for her own words to reach him.

She ignored the unspoken command in his eyes, feeling her face burning and gave her own order, "Get out of my way, Sir."

She noticed his grimace and thought it was due to her form of address; still she refused to be swayed by any of his body language.

"Like I said, Carter, we need to talk."

"Not going to happen, Colonel." She revved the engine in the hope it might encourage him to shift; he remained motionless.

Damnation! She cursed herself for having wasted precious moments writing a short note to Jacob; that's what had done it, given Jack the time to appear out of nowhere standing like a sentinel, barring her way. Damn, but she wasn't in the mood to talk.

"Begging the Colonel's pardon, but--."

"Just cut the engine and get out of the damned car. And **that** is an order!" he snapped through gritted teeth, sucking in a sharp breath as he attempted to move.

Years of ingrained obedience almost made her comply, until she pictured herself making wanton love to this man and then all form of compliance vanished as she wrenched the wheel in the opposite direction and allowed the car to move forward a fraction. It was his fists that slammed down on the hood this time and his cursing would have had her blushing if she hadn't already been doing just that.

For a moment her jaw jutted out defiantly and she had to wonder how long this stalemate would last even knowing that she had lost this particular battle as she'd lost all previous ones to do with her CO. Her hand hovered over the key, hesitating to give him the satisfaction of knowing he'd won.

Damn, what would it take to just once come out--? Her inner thoughts shut down as she watched Jack begin to sway and just before he decided to use the hood of her car as a place to lie down she noted, even in the car's headlights, that his pallor looked definitely off.

Could he fake that? She was well aware that he was capable of some pretty despicable acts if his own words were to be believed . Sam knew it was within his repertoire to try to put one over on others to gain their sympathy but would he use that trick on her? Yet as she switched off the engine and opened her car door, a little inner voice was telling her that he wasn't faking it. This was for real.

The blood trailing down his shin and pooling at his foot was another indicator that her inner voice was right.

"Ja-ack!" Her tone was filled with reproach and disbelief as she dropped to her haunches to get a closer look at the open gash that ran across the front of his knee. She swore when she realized it was the same injured leg.

Janet was going to skin him alive, but she thought that was after she'd done the honors to yours truly. Shaking her head she looked up accusingly, demanding, "Just how on earth did you manage this?" And jerking her head round, she eyed the deck from which he must have launched himself. Of all the idiotic, bird-brained...

"I don't need you thinking what you're thinking Carter." His voice was thick with sarcasm. "Cuz I'm calling myself everything under the sun and more, you can bet on it."

"Well I bet you haven't thought of all those interesting things Janet is going to be regaling you with, Sir," she answered snidely, uncaring how bitchy she sounded. And taking one of his arms, she pulled it over her shoulder while her free arm snaked around his waist.

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He had sulked all the way to the hospital and was still sulking when he was taken into a cubicle to have the laceration dealt with. And it didn't help that the senior nurse on duty, Sister Cross, had wanted him to remove his jeans - which he'd flatly refused, nor was he too thrilled when said nurse had eyed him with a jaded look that spoke a thousand words and proceeded to cut up his injured jean leg, ignoring the death look given her. She had turned a deaf ear as he had complained unceasingly through the whole stitching process. Nor was she terribly impressed when he wanted to know why she wasn't continuing and stitching up the tear in his favorite pair of jeans.

And she'd silently listened to all his reasons why the tetanus should be administered in his arm and then carefully placed the syringe on a cart, turned back to him with a withering glare and tugged down his jeans, paying no heed whatsoever to his growl of displeasure nor to the flush streaking up his neck and face at having been found minus his underwear, which was, he recalled, still lying somewhere in Sam's bedroom. And to cap off the whole humiliating experience, the look of compassion she'd bestowed on Sam as she handed him back into her care assured Jack if nothing else that Sister Cross had attended the same medical school of misery to all colonels as Janet Fraiser.

And his irritation didn't stop at the nurse. He was blisteringly annoyed with Sam and turned on her as he limped along the hospital corridor.

"And why the hell didn't you back me up when I told that harridan all my tetanus shots were up to date, for crying out loud?" And seeing her expression he raised his eyes to the heavens. Oh yes, he'd always known it, the female species was evil. And fixing her with his own 'you'll pay for this big time' look, he was just about to entertain her with his own promise of retribution when both Kate and Jacob came rushing in.

Thinking this whole incident couldn't get any worse, Jack screwed his eyes up knowing it hadn't even started.

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It wasn't as if Jack had never been sent to the principal's office; it wasn't as if he'd never stood ramrod stiff at attention before receiving Air Force discipline and it wasn't as if he'd never faced down a senior officer intent on slicing him up into tiny pieces and serving him up as the main course in the officer's mess. Oh no; he'd been through all that and worse. Yet despite all his bitter experiences at dealing with figures of authority, he was finding it difficult to look Jacob Carter in the eye and explain what this whole 'damned fiasco' was about.

He was pretty sure the whole 'I slept with your daughter and when she tried to run out on me I tried to stop her ' thing wasn't going to sit too well with the ex-general/Tok'ra. Speaking of which, he cast his eyes around in the hope he might see Carter. Nix.

"Are you paying attention to what I'm saying, Jack?"

The biting question caused the pain in Jack's knee to notch up a tad, and he failed to hide the grimace that crossed his face as he sat on a hard-backed chair at the breakfast bar.

"I said," he repeated softly yet scathingly, "can you give me one good reason why, when daylight comes, I don't take you by the scruff and kick your sorry ass all the way back to Cheyenne Mountain where you'll face not only the wrath of George and Janet Fraiser, but you'll have the pleasure of sitting through a number of MacKenzie's little heart to heart talks?"

Jacob's uncompromising expression was clearly meant to be received by the chastened recipient and acted upon in a meaningful way.

Jack remained obstinately silent.

What was it, Jack wondered, about Carter's father that had him feeling as if he were fifteen years old about to have the wrath of an overly protective parent descend on him in the most brutal manner possible?

For crying out loud, Carter had chosen _**him**_; it wasn't as if he'd seduced her and taken her virginity, no matter that he'd yearned for her in secret ever since Antarctica.

But that was exactly how he was being made to feel and there was nothing he could do to dissuade Jacob from thinking the worst. Unless he spilled the beans on his daughter's actions. And that he could never, would never do.

"Jacob, I need to talk to Carter."

He tried very hard not to sound as if he were pleading though he wasn't too sure it came over as anything other than just that. And if only to himself he admitted that he was at a loss as to why Sam had been leaving when she did.

Hadn't he shown her what his feelings were, and hadn't she done exactly the same? And even if she was having second thoughts on their relationship, worried about her career, she must know he would never stand in her way; she was mature enough to be able to face him and tell him.

She was no coward. He shook his head. It didn't make sense.

Jacob stared hard. "And that would be for what reason?" the older man enquired.

Jack just managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes, having some self-protective intuition kick in that Sam's father might just decide to get close up and personal with his body should he reveal this juvenile response. But he was fast losing the little patience he had remaining and biting off a curse, he ground out,

"Just let me see her, Jacob, for crying out loud."

"Can you tell me why she left me this?" Jacob tossed a page of Sam's handwriting over to him and hastily Jack read through the words, somehow grateful that he wasn't implicated in her hasty leaving.

'Dad,

Couldn't sleep so decided I might as well get an early start instead of tossing and turning. Give my love to Kate and I'll see you when you bring the Colonel back.

I think you're making inroads; just go easy on him (and yes, I know I'm asking a lot, but you can do it!).

I love you.

Sam'

Schooling his features to reveal nothing of what he was actually thinking, Jack placed the page on the table and met Jacob's stare head on.

"Don't you think you should ask Carter that question?"

"I'm asking you."

Jack grimaced. This wasn't looking good. He could feign indifference until the cows came home, but Jacob was like a dentist with a sore tooth. He'd drill and keep on drilling until he was satisfied he'd cleared out the entire gunk causing the pain. Jack was in it deep.

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It seems pretty straight forward to me; she stated it as it was."

And there it was - the gleam of triumph in the Tok'ra's eyes. "So tell me Jack, why couldn't Sam sleep?"

Not a muscle in his body moved, not a breath was taken and yet Jack knew he was busted. Busted big time.

"I don't know," he sighed, his voice a mere whisper.

"I think you do."

"Stop bullying him, Dad."

For just a moment Jacob stilled, and then slowly, melodramatically he raised his arms wide as if totally innocent of the charge. "Hey, I'm not the one who hit him," he countered, turning to face both Sam and Kate.

'No, but you must admit, if only to yourself, that you wish you had had that very opportunity,' challenged Selmak's inner voice smugly, eliciting a frown from the host.

Observing the weary set to Jack's shoulders, Kate decided to intercede on his behalf. "He should be in his own bed, not facing third degree questioning."

Hearing the part about 'his own bed', Jack's head shot up guardedly and he wondered just what Sam had told Kate.

"She's right, Dad."

"I don't need you to be my advocate, Carter!" Jack snapped and caught the disapproving look Kate threw at him.

Her blue eyes flashing dangerously, Sam shot back, "Really? So what do you need me for?"

But it seemed Kate had had quite enough of such to and fro sparring and, brushing past Jacob, she snagged hold of Sam's wrist and tugged her forward to stand next to Jack.

"What is it with you two?" she demanded, spearing them both with a significant glare. "I'm almost tempted to bang your two silly heads together to try and put some sense into them...Jack O'Neill, just stop this nonsense now. And as for you Sam, are you trying to compete with him in his foolish game? The two of you have no excuses in your profession. You've seen too much to be squandering this precious time. It's enough now. Either stop this childishness and face your responsibilities, each one of you, or from this day forth move on."

As Jacob watched the expressions wash over his daughter and his guest, he had to take his proverbial cap off to Kate. If he wasn't mistaken there appeared to be some hint of light shining at the end of an endlessly long, dark tunnel. She was certainly a class act; no one could deny that. Nor was she finished just yet.

"Sam, do me a favor and help the Colonel to his bed. And don't you dare take any of his nonsense if he starts to tell you he can manage, because from where I'm standing he looks as if he's ready to keel over."

Here she stared hard at Jack waiting for any possible argument. None was forthcoming. She nodded approvingly. "It's well past my bedtime, so if no one minds, I'm going to take myself off to a nice warm, welcoming bed."

She started to move away then stopped, turning her head. "Are you coming, Jake?"

There was, Jacob knew, more to this state of affairs, but it seemed that this woman, who held a place dear to his heart, was in control of what, at times, had appeared to be total pandemonium. For once Jack O'Neill was behaving himself.

Jacob's attention shifted as he caught the blush of color wash over his daughter's pale features, obviously from the few words Kate had just whispered in her ear. 'What the hell was all that about?'

But she hadn't finished yet, because bending down to Jack she said something else and again a similar result ensued. Intrigued, Jacob caught Kate's eye, this enigma clearly puzzling him, but with a slight shake of her head he was silently directed to maintain his own counsel for a little longer.

----------------------

His sigh radiated from deep within, conveying the obvious relief felt in being in bed with the woman who meant as much to him as his daughter. Enfolded in his arms, Kate still snuggled into his neck, revelling in feeling so loved and secure. Such a good man, such a good father and an equally good lover. She was blessed.

"So what did you say to them?"

She smiled gently. She had wondered how long it would be before he asked the inevitable and was quite impressed by his restraint.

"Words to the effect that you have spent too much precious time away from my bed and this state of affairs has got to change. And if the only way to guarantee you in my bed is to make certain Sam shares Jack's, then so be it."

Jacob grunted. "Well that might explain the color in Sam's cheeks but not the crimson flush that hit Jack. Just what did you say to elicit that response?"

From the corner of his eye, Jacob could see Kate grinning wickedly and not for the first time was grateful she was on his side.

"I just happened to mention that you'd be interested to learn how a pair of Simpson's boxers had somehow turned up in Sam's bedroom and that if he gave Sam a hard time, he'd be receiving an uncomfortable line of questioning from a certain ex-general."

"Woman, you are plain evil!"

"Aren't I just."

-------------------------------

"I need to know one thing."

She stiffened at the tone of his voice, dreading what was to come.

But as she raised her blonde head, she was stunned at what she saw. There was no mask; no veneer; no superficial act to hide behind, and his vulnerability did what little else could.

Dropping her eyes, she paid an inordinate amount of attention to the act of removing his shoes, seemingly intent on dealing with the laces as if they posed some unfathomable mystery which had to be solved.

It was some time before she was able to speak without the lump that had been constricting her vocal chords affecting her voice.

Still unable to meet his gaze, she muttered hoarsely, "And what would that be?"

She had to steel herself not to strain towards him as she waited for his answer.

"I need to know you'll still be here in the morning."

Blinking back the pool of tears which threatened to erupt from her eyes, Sam tugged agitatedly at one lace, unable to provide any form of response so choked was she. But the silence could only last so long and as she felt the tension in Jack's legs as if he were about to stand, she tugged even harder, preventing any idea he may have had of escape and was rewarded with the removal of one shoe.

Being barefoot, however, didn't appear to be an obstacle and he made a further attempt to rise from the bed upon which he was perched.

"The nurse told you to keep off your leg otherwise you'll--."

"Screw the nurse, and for that matter screw--." It was his turn to have his words cut short as Sam raised her tear-streaked face to reveal the utter grief and torment she was ravaged by.

"Carter." Her name was a whisper of emotion evoking a sensation so fierce that Sam reached out for him blindly.

"I...I couldn't let you die...I couldn't let it happen. I had to do something, anything. I...I only had one living thought in my whole body and that was to keep you with me at any cost. I was willing to do anything and I...I. Oh God, when they told me you'd gone missing ... I...I wanted to--."

Sliding down the side of the bed, Jack settled next to his 2IC, unsure of himself in the face of Sam's confession. But the misery he saw so bleakly revealed had him reaching unhesitatingly to enfold her in his arms.

"C'mere..."

If there was a slight hesitation it didn't last long as Jack began to explain what had happened.

"When I realized where Kanan had brought me I was scared shitless and when the snake scuttled off and left me to Ba'al I was so mad I could have ripped the bastard in two with my bare hands. But later, I was able to see that the Tok'ra had gone back for his mate. He'd risked all and a part of me that wasn't afraid was feeling a kind of admiration because that is what the good guys do, isn't it? They don't leave their loved ones behind."

Sam was so still, not daring to move, barely breathing as she listened to Jack open up to her.

"And so I was put through an unending cycle of torture and sarcophagus until I wished it would all end. I even dreamt that Daniel was with me and wanted me to ascend. Can you imagine how well that would have gone down if I'd joined those hallowed ranks?"

He grinned wryly hoping the levity would mute the intensity of his story. "But in the end, you know what? I was left wondering who was the better - Kanan for doing what had to be done, or me, the self-righteous bastard too indignant at being made a host to understand what life is all about...

And the funny thing is - I still don't know if it was worth it all."

Unable to bear the thought of her CO being so lost in his beliefs, Sam began to pour out all her fears and torments of the last weeks, unable to draw anything but the odd painful gasp of air. With her head hidden in the crook of Jack's neck, she seemed to be burrowing even further into him, unwilling to allow an inch of space between her and this man who was everything to her. Her crying intensified as Jack rocked her in his arms, hushing her with softly spoken words of comfort, her shoulders shuddering with the strain of trying to contain the waves of despair within her distraught body.

"Hey," he admonished gently, "you've got to stop this now. That's an order in case you hadn't noticed, Major."

Gulping in air, she attempted to obey aware that she'd soaked a large area of Jack's shirt with her uncontrolled tears. Drawing away, she searched frantically for tissues. Even in the state she was in, she was pretty sure he'd be none too impressed if her runny nose dripped all over him, too.

"I need the bathroom." And scooting to her feet she practically ran in search of tissues, taking the opportunity to wash her swollen face in cold water.

When she returned, Jack had managed to perch himself on the end of the bed again, but his obvious discomfort was apparent. She moved purposely to the chest of drawers which kept his clothes and rooted out a pair of boxers and a t-shirt and then before pushing closed the drawer, drew out a second t-shirt for herself.

With no show of self-consciousness she stepped out of her clothes, shrugging into one of the t-shirts then approaching Jack she held out his own version of night clothes.

"Come on. Let's get you into these."

He held up one hand while the other snagged one of her wrists, pulling her closer to stand between his knees.

"Why'd you do it?"

Like a startled deer caught in a lion's hypnotic gaze, Sam jerked and drawing in a shaky breath she attempted a rally of magnificent proportion by blinding him with a brilliant smile.

It didn't work. He continued to stare at her with eyes saddened and world-weary.

"Was it just a game, an itch to scratch?"

Her breath caught in pained surprise. "No!" Her vehement denial brought no relief and she repeated the negative again.

Jack's lips turned into a wry smile minus the humour. "So, why the tactical retreat? Did you think I would hold you to some sort of relationship you weren't interested in and put your career at risk?"

She stilled, aware that the man before her was hurting and for once showing his pain.

Again she repeated the simple negative, her own emotion clear as she dropped to her knees.

"I felt..." She struggled to find words that wouldn't allow her vulnerability to be shattered to pieces.

"What? You felt what?" Jack pressed, a frown appearing between his eyes.

"Hopeless."

Bewildered, he echoed her choice of word, his eyes going dull with doubt.

As if sensing his mental as well as physical withdrawal, Sam clamped her hands onto his shoulders, demanding his full attention. She drew in a deep breath, calling on all her powers of courage to face this challenge.

"Hopelessly in love."

There, she'd done it. Done what she'd always promised she would never do after the fiasco of her relationship with Jonas. She had sworn she would never again allow herself to fall so completely under the powers of another man, losing herself so entirely. And then this.

She shook her head, unsure whether to curse or laugh at the irony of fate. This had not been easy for her and if the man before her couldn't sense...

"Idiot!"

It was her turn to stiffen in indignation and she would have wrenched away but for the iron hold on her which fiercely pulled her resisting into his arms, his knees clamping tightly around her.

"No you don't," his voice was low but determined.

And before she could protest, she found she was being kissed warmly and deliberately. She felt the first tremors of apprehension and closed her eyes in anticipation of the flood of desire which she could already feel growing in intensity. The force of her feelings frightened her as she responded without thought or control.

This she accepted was why there was a non-fraternization policy and for good reason. And yet, hadn't they both given up enough and made sacrifices enough? Was it not time for some form of payback? Didn't they deserve a little happiness in all the hell that was going on around them? Was that too much to ask?

Evidently her own father had come to terms with the fact because if anyone was to veto this union, she would have expected it to have been him. But no, for some inexplicable reason that she wasn't going to question, he had put up no objections when she and Jack had retired to his bedroom. There again, they both looked like shit so he could have felt he was on a safe bet. But no, that wasn't how her father operated and well she knew it.

Under Jack's searching lips she could feel herself smile. Clearly he did too, because he paused, drawing away from her fractionally.

"Something funny?"

She was wise enough to realize that mentioning her father wouldn't possibly go down all that well at this moment so Sam merely shook her head shyly and placed her lips back on Jack's.

-----------------------

Over the rim of his steaming mug of Ethiopian coffee, Jacob Carter watched Jack tuck into a breakfast of oatmeal followed by hot toast smothered in butter and honey all accompanied by a large glass of milk. No word of dissent, no grunt of disagreement or frown of rebellion was made; there was simply a total commitment to consuming the meal though he had thought the silver-haired man was looking particularly pensive at times.

'It appears Samantha has had a most positive affect on our Colonel O'Neill,' Selmak noted, mirroring Jacob's own silent thoughts. But before Jacob could make some acerbic inner comment, Sam entered.

Waving down Jacob, who had been about to rise to get her some coffee, she gave him a bright smile which was instantly smothered in a huge yawn which she tried hiding behind her hand.

"Sorry," she said grinning apologetically. "Too many late nights."

Studiously studying the last slice of toast on his plate, Jack kept his head and eyes lowered. He had no wish to be brought into--.

"What about you, Sir?"

If he'd had anything in his mouth he knew he would have choked. No doubt about it.

He raised dark, chocolate eyes to his 2IC, who had taken the seat opposite him next to her father, attempting a neutral expression.

"What about me?" he asked softly. He could see the mischief bubbling inside her and groaned silently. She still hadn't forgiven him. With two pairs of Carter eyes upon him he felt totally exposed.

"I think Sam's trying to find out if you slept alright last night," Jacob explained dryly casting a baleful eye over the man sitting opposite while trying to figure out whether he was pleased that the Colonel and Sam were actually communicating with each other - especially when he noticed how Jack appeared to be avoiding meeting his gaze.

Jacob turned his head to his daughter and asked cheerfully, "So, are you all packed and ready to go?"

Jack couldn't help himself, like a tree root craving water, his eyes were drawn to hers and he felt speared with such an intensity of lust that he gulped in air much like a fish out of water.

"You know Dad, sleeping on it, I--."

He choked, a fine spray of milk coating his toast until he managed to raise a hand to his mouth while turning away from the table, fighting to drag air into his wheezing lungs.

He wasn't ready for the hearty thump between his shoulder blades either and if it hadn't been for Jacob's steadying hand on his arm he might have lost his balance completely. As it was, he managed to retain his seat though his dignity had gone flying out of the cabin's open kitchen window.

"Are you okay, Colonel?"

He screwed his eyes shut at the innocent inquiry, finally finding his voice. "I...I'm fine...I think I'll get some air."

He all but staggered out to the deck, aware that both Carters were following his every move. Once there he dropped onto a chair and aimed for indifferent should either father or daughter appear.

When, he wondered, had he lost the ability to soak up the guilt like a dish towel with spilt milk? He was incapable of looking Jacob in the eye without blushing like a first grader caught cheating in a test and as for facing Carter...He groaned well aware that his overly fertile brain was providing him with a slide show of the previous night's graphic entertainment however, the discomfort came from knowing that Sam knew precisely what he was thinking and seemed to encourage it, which would have been fine and dandy if it hadn't been for Dad breathing down his neck. He was no momma's fool, he knew when he was being sized up and that metaphorical noose was feeling tighter by the minute.

"So how's the knee?"

Annoyed that he was startled, Jack shrugged, attempting casual. "It's fine."

"Are you and Sam fine, too?"

He knew it was coming, but he had expected Jacob to take a little longer getting to the crux of what he was now being asked. And as he searched for an answer which would appease a father looking out for his only daughter, Jacob forestalled Jack's reply, continuing, "Because if you mess with her, I promise I will make your life hell. She didn't deserve Hanson, but it happened. I don't intend it to happen again."

"Jacob I--."

"A father wants his daughter to be happy and for some reason beyond my comprehension, you make my daughter happy!"

Jack snapped his mouth shut, hoping his jaw hadn't been hanging open too long.

"Look, Jacob, I know this might seem like--."

"You may be an almighty pain in the ass when you're recuperating, Jack, but I do know a good man when I see one. Don't you think you deserve something good in your life after all the crap that's been thrown at you? Don't be too scared to reach out for what's there in front of you."

And seeing the younger man about to make some token excuse, he uttered, "And I know the regulations better than most, but there are times when those regulations have to take a back seat. If anyone can deal with that responsibility you and Sam are the ones to do it."

Then narrowing his eyes, he concluded, "I repeat, just don't mess with her or so help me, I'll make Ba'al seem like a second rate hit man. Do you understand me?"

At last Jack met Jacob's eye and kept his gaze locked on the Tok'ra.

"I'll do my best."

As if accepting Jack's sincerity, Jacob nodded adding complacently, "I think I should warn you, Jack, she may be the perfect 2IC but as a daughter she tried my very patience to the limit as a teenager. You may just find you've bitten off more than you can chew in certain areas."

Hoping his expression remained Teal'c-like, Jack willed his features to remain as impassive as the Jaffa's even as Sam appeared behind her father's back giving Jack a self-satisfied grin which gave him a perfect example of how trying Jacob Carter's daughter could be.

It was hard attempting to hold a serious conversation when a minx was running the tip of her pink tongue over her lips in a most suggestive way making Jack's body temperature begin to make a steady climb. He wasn't sure how long he could keep up the act of indifference.

"Sam, if you're trying to make Jack uncomfortable, I'd say you're succeeding. So stop whatever it is you're doing behind my back and go make your father another cup of coffee."

The look of stunned surprise followed by sneaking admiration in Jack's eyes had Jacob chuckling. "You'll learn, Jack. Slowly, mind you. It took me a number of years to get to grips with being father to Sam and you may think you've got a head start being her CO, but Mister, you haven't even touched the icing on the cake."

In the end it was Kate who saved Jack from any further third-degree grilling, demanding that the two 'young' one's be left in peace and that she was ready for a long walk by the river to clear the cobwebs in her sleepy brain.

As the two of them watched the older pair walking hand-in-hand away from the cabin, Sam turned to Jack and smiled a smile of such promise that in looking back at the retreating pair he envisaged the two of them in years to come doing just the same only with a pair of children following on behind them.

It was definitely something to look forward to. He had no doubt there would be some huge barriers to face in their professional lives, but he'd made enough sacrifices to warrant some bending of those iron clad rules. And if anyone could sort it out, General Hammond would be the one. And suddenly, having taken this once forbidden step, the future at last held something so precious that he could actually look forward to something other than a hockey match and an ice-cold bottle of beer. He could believe that he could put the scars of his past behind him, secure in the trust that his life had meaning for tomorrow and all the tomorrows after that.

THE END

That's it. Hope you guys enjoyed it to the very end.

There is another story in the works but I'm away to England for two months to get away from the heat so won't be posting until I return. And then that's only if Nell gives me the all clear.


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